The Gate
by b does the write thing
Summary: Something is not quite right about the small town of Storybrooke. When Lacey French goes undercover to discover the scoop that could jump start her career, she herself disappears into a magical world known as Fae. With only the protection of a questionable sorcerer, Lacey must survive a year in the world of Fae's nine kingdoms where nothing is as it seems. {Cover Art by Midstorm}
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**I always thought the Lacey storyline was interesting- a flawed woman and a flawed man who brought out the worst in each other was an interesting take on the Rumbelle arc. I was a bit disappointed when they abruptly brought it to an end when Mr. Gold needed his Belle back instead of exploring that side of Belle. **

**You can of course argue that it was a nasty curse designed to bring up her worst attributes just like Snow was reduced to a meek lonely slip of a woman- the very thing the Evil Queen wanted her most to be- but what if the cursed persona was based on a small part of herself she hid away to survive? Doesn't that it make them even more interesting?**

**So, I decided to try and write a tale about Lacey who embraces her flaws as virtues to get what she wants and how her life changes when she stumbles into a world with very different rules. **

**So, please don't expect the **_**exact**_** OuaT Belle in this story, this is a different fairytale. **

**This chapter has been updated from its original posting to reflect some characterization changes. **

XxXxX

It all started with a cup of coffee.

Well, the sludge that _The Looking Glass_ passed for coffee at least.

Lacey had just raised the Styrofoam cup to her lips, carefully blowing to avoid scalding her mouth when- "There you are!" boomed over her shoulder.

At this unexpected sudden incursion in her personal space, Lacey involuntarily flinched in her seat, sending a river of molten coffee cascading into her lap. "For fuck's sake!" she yelped, already grabbing for the paper towels she kept in her lower desk drawer.

The black skirt she had worn today was absurdly thin for the late October day but it was one of her favorites. It cut across her hips just enough to be sexually enticing but long enough to keep the harpies from Human Resources from filing a conduct complaint. The coffee was already dampening her thighs, the hot liquid burning unpleasantly.

"My bad, Lace," drawled the intruder, not bothering to hide the amusement coloring his tone. "Did I get you-"

"Wet?" Lacey finished, glancing up at the speaker as she continued to pat down her thighs. She looked up through her lashes, offering a puckish smile. "You know, there are much better ways to go about ruining my skirts, Gaston."

True to form, the handsome men's health writer returned the teasing remark with a laugh. He leaned casually against the wall of her desk, watching her efforts with a smirk on his rugged face.

"Promises, promises," he rejoined. Picking up the roll, he tore off another sheet and handed it to her with an arched brow. She accepted it with thanks, tossing her current wadded mess of towels in the trash can next to her. "But you were looking particularly alluring this morning. I must say bare legs in October is a bold movie, Lacey, my girl."

"As much as I'd love to chat," Lacey murmured, "I really have a lot to do." She gave up on the attempt to save her skirt. She'd just have to go shopping this weekend for a replacement. "Run along now, go flirt with the interns."

He scoffed in response, "You know you're the only girl for me, Lace." He flipped out his phone and started to talk about his latest article, something about rock climbing and testosterone. His smooth voice grew monotonous as he droned on, reading her snippets from the online publication, oblivious to her disinterest.

Everyone knew Jack Gaston was considered the catch of the office- hell, she had heard of random girls on the street following him into the building like stray cats in heat.

With his jet black hair swept back with a perfect curl on his forehead, Jack's dark brown eyes with long lashes were devastatingly alluring. Add his pouty lips that were always pulled back in a rogue's smile and his lantern jaw, he was almost impossible to resist even though it was common knowledge he had slept with half the women at the city paper where they worked. It had been noted that most of his conquests tended to be more productive post coital than the weeks they spent trying to get his attention. So, management usually looked the other way.

Lacey had thought Gaston entertaining for all of two minutes- he had barely gotten her name before asking her out for drinks. An uneventful martini or two later, they went back to his place and had sex on his pool table.

While the sex had been adequate, Gaston himself was lackluster. A classic narcissist, he had spent most of the evening talking about himself. Lacey had found it easy to decline the next invitation.

Unfortunately, Gaston seemed to like the challenge. He became her very own personal shadow in the office, showing up at her desk throughout the day, asking her out to dinner, bringing her pastries from the cart downstairs. All which she allowed. After all, what girl doesn't like a little attention? Or free scones? So, Lacey flirted. The problem was Gaston didn't always understand the concept of flirtation as an art form.

Lacey twisted her chair around, fixing him with a pointed look as she asked, "Did you need something, Gaston?"

"I may have been asked to deliver a message for you," he admitted, moving to seat himself more firmly on her desk top. She rolled her chair back a few feet away from him, crossing her arms with a smile.

"And that would be?"

He grinned, his perfect teeth gleaming in the fluorescent lighting of the office. "Reese was looking for you." He shrugged, leaning down. "I covered for you being late this morning, told him you were running a story down to the editing department for me."

"Wait-what?"

If Reese was looking for her, it meant-

Lacey leaped for her notepad, tugging her skirt down as she stood. The coffee stain was still vivid on her skirt and she rubbed at it ineffectively.

"You are just-"she muttered through clenched teeth, trying to get around him and out her cube.

"Charming? Quick thinking? Your very own knight in shining armor?" He supplied, following her out.

"Unbelievable," she corrected, pulling her damp skirt away from her thighs as best she could. "I've been asking Reese for weeks to cover a story, and the first time he calls me to his office, you tell him I'm doing research for you? Typical."

"You're welcome," he replied, oblivious to her annoyance. Luckily for them both, he stopped short at the kitchen area where a new intern was bending over to clean out the dishwasher, her skirt unintentionally riding up. "Lunch? Italian?" He called out absently, already running a hand through his hair as he eyed his new target.

"In your dreams, Gaston," she purred over her shoulder, turning the corner.

After a quick stride down the main hallway, she arrived at the large closed door at the end of the hall. She paused, glancing down at her rumpled blouse and stained skirt. Reaching down, she flicked open two of the top buttons before shimmying her skirt down to fit neatly across her hips. She grinned, knocking neatly on the door before entering.

Sitting with his back to the large windows which framed his desk, an older man was bent, pouring over column print outs, holding up today's paper in one hand and comparing it to the one on his desk. The light streaming in the window behind him made his white hair glow in a translucent aura, giving him a hazy halo.

Mo Reese was the editor, owner and overall spiritual leader of _The_ _Looking Glass_. He had started the paper as a young man and had lived to see it grow into a major paper of the city. His tendency to lean towards investigative reporting over the growing syndicated columns had made it popular but over the past couple years, slow news cycles and larger syndications had thinned out the paper's once prestigious numbers.

He glanced up. When he saw Lacey, he returned his attention to the columns, waving a hand at her to come in.

"Gaston told me you were helping him on a project, I figured he was either lying or you were desperate enough for a story that'd you'd do anything."

"You wanted to see me?" She asked, avoiding the question. She carefully held her pad in front of the large coffee stain on her skirt. He pointed her towards the chair in front of him without looking up.

She took the seat, careful to cross her legs discreetly, balancing the pad on top of the stain. It was freezing in Reese's office and she felt goose pimples start to rise along her legs.

Fighting the urge to fidget, she waited patiently as he continued reading. After a moment or two of uncomfortable silence, she started to doodle in the margins of her notepad, trying not to concentrate on how uncomfortable cold coffee was on one's skin.

Finally, Reese looked up. He blinked at her for a moment as if he had forgotten she was there before he cleared his throat.

"Ah, yes. French," She nodded, forcing herself to fix a firm smile on her face at the older man.  
"You've been here for about five years now, is that right?"

She straightened her shoulders, sitting up a little more straight in her seat. "Yes, sir. In four months, it will be five years."

"Uh huh," he agreed, absently, checking a piece of paper as he continued. "And you started as an intern, worked in sales for a bit before moving over to work for the personal pages?"

"And then was promoted to the research desk, I work mainly with politics-"

"Yea, Heinz speaks highly of you over there. Told me you've been ghostwriting Stegall's columns since he's been out on sick leave."

"Yes, Sam approved the first few pieces –"

"Well written, paced and free of any liberal. Good pieces- but I've been reading them for three weeks and I didn't realize they weren't Stegall's."

She nodded warily, keeping her eyes locked straight ahead. Her pulse was starting to pick up speed and her hands were locked in balls in her lap. Reese was hard to read in most situations, in a private meeting like this, it was impossible to tell where it was going.

"Yes, well that was the idea…" she replied tersely, readjusting her legs and leaning forward slightly. She hadn't worked with Reese directly before but she was aware in most cases, a little décolletage worked to her advantage.

Reese waved his hand, seemingly oblivious to her now slightly gaping chemise, "Yes, well, I asked around. You've been writing for other reporters in a few other departments, and I didn't notice those either. You're a very talented chameleon, French. But I don't know if copying someone's writing style qualifies you for an actual writing desk."

She nodded, swallowing the angry words that rose to her tongue. Taking a moment to digest the comment, she ducked her head in what she hoped appeared to be coy embarrassment as she tried to figure out a response. To her surprise, Reese continued on regardless.

"But I've got a story that just came in and I need someone who isn't a fixture here- someone I can send on assignment and trust not to lose their head, resent the assignment or lose perspective and if you want it as badly as everyone seems to think you do- I figured you'd be a good choice."

"An assignment?" Lacey exclaimed, dropping the useless seduction tactic as she stood in excitement. "You're sending me on an actual assignment? Of course I'll go! When do I start? Is it for the opinions desk or-"

Reese interrupted her, "French, you have a lunch meeting with Greg Mendell at noon today, he'll fill you in."

She felt her excitement drain away as fast as it had appeared.

"The conspiracy nut from the TV series?_ Vanished_ or something equally banal?" Lacey asked, failing to hide the skepticism in her tone.

"The very one," Reese agreed, leaning back in his chair. It was a comical sight since he was short and round, his appetite for food being only second to his hunger for a story. "Mendell's been pushing a lead on a story, and it rang some bells in our research department. There's some town called Storybrooke- seems a few missing people over the years, couple unexplained homicides- feds have tried to get involved since the sixties but no luck. Small town, tight community- no outsiders have been able to get more than a few words from even the law enforcers over there."

"And you want me to…what exactly?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"Meet with this "nut", see what he has to say, sniff out if there's a story there like I think there is."

"If you don't mind me asking," Lacey edged, uncertainty coloring her tone. "What makes you think that the guy from _Vanished_ has a credible story if he's not using it for his own syndication or book rights?"

"Because," Reese said, fixing her with his sharp blue eyes. "He wants someone to do what he can't do as a national television celebrity."

Lacey waited, biting the inside of her cheek in irritation and trying to reassure herself this could be a good opportunity and not just a fool's errand. "And what's that, sir?"

"Go undercover and find out why people keep disappearing from Storybrooke."

XxXxX

Three hours later, Lacey found herself sitting at a table at the Gas Light Café waiting on Greg Mendell. She had gone home to change out of her ruined skirt and was now dressed in a cream skirt suit and jacket that suited her rosy complexion. Her dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail with tendrils framing her face. Business like but feminine enough to be disarming. Her notepad and pen lay discreetly next to her, waiting for her source to arrive.

She picked up her water glass, trying to quell the growing irritation. Her first real assignment. And it happened to be with a guy who was considered a national nut job; a very famous nut job, sure, but a nut job regardless.

A little past noon, a commotion by the door caused her to shift slightly in her seat. A man walked in, taking off his sunglasses and talking to the hostess while a few light bulbs went off outside the main door. Lacey watched the exchange, recognizing the closely shaved head and watery blue eyes as Greg Mendell, host of _Vanished_.

The hostess pointed him towards Lacey, who stood to greet him. He thanked the hostess, checked behind his shoulder once more before making his way to Lacey, reaching out to take her hand.

"You must be Ms. French?" He greeted, firmly gripping her hand in his. She smiled, greeting him and offering him the seat across from her. She watched his eyes flash down to her chest and she grinned back at him, eyes twinkling in challenge. He smiled mischievously back and she inwardly cheered. It was ridiculous how easy it was to get men to relax with the right approach.

"Picked a spot in the back with high booth partitions and away from the windows," he noticed, ordering an unsweet tea from the waitress. "Smart."

She shrugged, her chest pushing out as her shoulders fell. He glanced down again, missing the slight roll of her eyes. After some small talk about their respective backgrounds, they ordered lunch before settling down to discuss the story.

"So, you've seen the show?" He asked, picking up a piece of bread and smearing it with butter. She nodded, picking up her pen.

"Seen the pilot episode?" He asked, taking a large bite, butter smearing his chin.

"Actually, no," she responded, trying to avoid staring at the grease spot. "But that's probably because it was aired on a local channel in Maine and the original recording was lost in a fire they had a few months later.'

'You know, if it wasn't for your third episode finding the supposedly lost housewife from New Jersey living happily as a man in Vermont, you probably would never have been picked up for syndication by the cable network at all."

He grinned at her, a sly smirk but it now held a hint of respect. "Okay, so you did your homework."

"What does the pilot episode have to do with your story, Mr. Mendell?" she asked, noting he had an absent minded habit of tapping the table with his fingers before he spoke.

"Well, it's actually the story of my father's disappearance," he shared. Lacey nodded, unsurprised. Most people with interest in the unknown had a trauma or mystery in their past.

"Can you share that story with me?" She asked with a smile, trying not to think about how good the bread looked as he went in for another slice. She kept her focus on him, reminding herself that she wouldn't be able to fit in her skirts if she ate too much bread every time she dined out.

"For you?" He asked with a wink," I'd be happy to.'

'I was about six; we went camping in the woods as an early Christmas present. It wasn't too long after my mom had passed and Dad didn't know how to hold a proper Christmas for a kid. So, he took me camping. We ended up a few miles out of a town- Storybrooke. We had missed the campsite somehow and Dad just decided to set up out in the woods instead of driving another couple hours back to the interstate."

She nodded, writing in shorthand the salient details.

"Well, short story- that night, I woke up to find Dad talking to some woman outside of our tent, a kind of park ranger I assumed so I just went back to sleep. When I woke up in the morning, Dad was gone. Naturally, being six, I didn't realize I should be scared or worried; I just ate all the chocolate we had left over from our s'mores the night before. When I started to get bored, I decided to go looking for him."

"In the woods? Or along the road?" She asked, looking up from her notepad.

"In the woods- I followed a trail I found nearby, just wandered along calling out for my Dad for a few miles," he grinned ruefully. "I remember being freezing and then getting mad at him for playing around; I didn't think to be scared until I realized I was lost. Got off the trail somehow and into the middle of the woods."

"Did you find a park ranger?" Lacey asked. She tried to place the self-assured man in front of her with a scared kid lost in the woods. So far the entire thing just seemed like publicity- Famous Host Orphaned. Likes Chocolate and Brunettes.

"No, those woods are basically empty. The only thing I found was- well it's odd what you remember but I found this odd, large ruin of a gate. I just leaned up against the column, freezing cold and hungry, lost and scared, calling for my dad."

"That's odd, isn't it?" She interrupted, looking up from her notepad. Greg raised his eyebrows at her in silent question at her interruption. But it was the first interesting thing about his story to Lacey- an odd detail in a mostly straightforward story. "Was the gate connected to a house?" Greg shook his head in the negative, looking slightly put out at her interruption.

"Just two big brick columns with an iron wrought gate between them- I just remember it- the first place that looked like civilization."

"But that's a bit weird, right?" She thought out loud, glancing down at her notes. "Just a locked gate in the middle of that huge forest?"

"Actually, to a kid it didn't seem weird. I walked around it in circles for a bit before I got hungry and decided to go back to the campground, but I couldn't find it again. Then, I tried to head back towards the gate but I couldn't find it either. I just managed to luck out and find the interstate, followed the flashing lights I occasionally saw and some folks coming back to Storybrooke from the city found me, middle of the night, blue fingers and red streaks on my face from crying."

"You shared that last part with your viewers?" Lacey teased, dropping the gate. While it interested her, he didn't seem to think about it much more than a random memory marker.

"No, but you're cute and I was hoping it would make you feel bad for me." He confessed laughing, waving his hands in surrender. She smiled invitingly in return, re-crossing her legs under the table, letting one brush against his pant leg. He eyed her across the table, leaning in closer as she pressed on.

"And then what? I'm guessing your father stayed missing which drove you to start a TV show about vanishing people- people with closure rarely keep going with their obsession."

"You're sharp, Lacey," he replied, nodding in approval. His attention was fixed on her, his male ego having been expertly stroked by her attentions he continued on, "I told Reese I needed someone fresh and wanting to prove themselves but I didn't realize I was going to get an actual real life journalist…"

Lacey avoided rolling her eyes, smiling warmly before confessing, "He seems to think there's some kind of story here, a possible deeper one than a boy's father going missing."

"There is," Greg enthused. The waitress brought out their plates, Greg's steak, bloody and rare and Lacey's salad.

Salads and interviews didn't go well, she had found out on her previous research assignments. But she knew men like Greg's type. A girl who ordered a burger and fries wasn't going to get him bragging or oversharing too easily. While Greg poured steak sauce on his plate, she waited for him to continue, toying with her fork.

"So, I got placed with a family out west of Storybrooke, nice folks, older. They didn't really approve of my fascination with disappearances, but I read all the books on aliens, mobs, anything to do with unknown conspiracy theories- I devoured it."

Lacey nodded along, letting him continue talking about his formative years, college stories about his fraternity, his dropping out and his working odd jobs in his early twenties, "And then when my adoptive parents passed, I was left with a decent nest egg- which I put into starting my show, and the rest's history."

"All that in the quest to find your father?" Lacey asked, her salad pushed around and wilting. Greg had had no such qualms and had aggressively devoured his steak and fries. He was leaning back, picking his teeth with a toothpick, comfortable and relaxed.

"My father is dead," he replied without hesitation. "I knew that when I got old enough to understand people's behaviors. Most of the people we find were unhappy, unfulfilled or with nothing to live for. They leave to start over or to protect someone. My father was a young single father with a good job who had promised his dying wife to take care of their son. He didn't leave me willingly, not out there in the wilderness in the middle of the night."

"And you are sure you heard him talking to someone?" Lacey asked, going back to her earlier notes.

"I was six but yea- I remember. There was definitely a woman's voice but I didn't see anyone outside the tent but my father's shadow. Whoever she was, she wasn't standing close enough to the fire for me to see her. And why would a woman be out in the woods alone at the end of December?"

"She wasn't a park ranger?" Lacey asked, spearing a carrot and raising it to her mouth. He watched her as she popped it in her mouth, eyes focused on her lips as she slid the fork out slowly.

"It's not a national park, just wilderness on the border of Canada. The locals that picked me up and the Sheriff of Storybrooke mentioned there being a lot of bears and wolves sightings in those woods- locals don't even go too far into them- too many disappearances over the years."

"Have there been any since your father's disappearance thirty years ago?"

"Not any that have been officially reported- but I'm sure if I had gone missing with my father, no one would have linked our disappearance to that area. We weren't even supposed to be around there. But there is one interesting thing I noticed in my few talks with Storybrooke's sheriff."

"Which is?" Lacey encouraged him, waving away the waitress who had just brought her a refill.

"That every single disappearance has been around the same time in December, around the Winter Solstice."

"Which is what you must have told Reese to get him to agree to investigate it," Lacey pieced together. Greg nodded, looking smug.

"Something is happening up in those woods, Lacey," He locked her with his eyes, the famous intensity of his gaze stronger in person than on TV. "Do you want to help find out what it is?"

She took a long drink, flicking her eyes to her notepad full of question marks and arrows. A story like this could either make a career or ruin it, following a journalist around their whole life as the crackpot story that was the biggest joke in publishing or the biggest cold case solved in recent history.

And yet, something in her was reacting to the story, just like Reese had. It was entirely possible this man's story of his lost father was just the tip of a much bigger iceberg.

She looked back up at him, slipping the check off the table, eyes burning in challenge. "Well, Greg, how do we begin?"

By the time she had made it back to her office, Lacey had four phone calls from Greg's business partner, Tamara. She had requested all of _Vanished_'s files and records for Storybrooke as well as any important information or possible leads they had been following to be delivered to her before the end of day. Tamara had agreed, ironing out final details before calling and confirming everything had been delivered.

It was just past seven when Lacey returned from her errands, going up the elevator to her floor; she finally felt the adrenaline ebb away, leaving her a tired knotted mess.

When the doors slide open with a chirp, she took a deep breath to square her shoulders before exiting. She turned the usual corners to her space; stopping short when she realized her desk was completely empty.

Her laptop was missing; personal mementos stuffed in a cardboard box on her chair, and her notes and Tamara's files nowhere to be found.

Stepping out into the aisle, she glanced around, noting her fellow researcher's desks where exactly as they had left them before they left for the night. Only hers looked like it had been cleaned out. She was in the process of trying to think who she should call when she heard footsteps.

Reese turned the corner, carrying his briefcase, nose buried in the tablet he typically used to check the _Looking Glass_'s online articles before they were published.

"Mr. Reese," she called out, hurrying towards him. "My desk-"

"French?" He remarked, glancing up at her in disbelief. "How did you get up here?" He asked, grabbing her elbow and hauling her towards the elevator. "You shouldn't be here!"

"But my desk-"

"I'll have someone store your personal effects for the time. Didn't Jacobs contact you?"

"Melody Jacobs? From Human Resources?" Lacey stumbled into the elevator after him, watching him jab the button down furiously. "I don't understand I-"

"You are on an undercover assignment, starting the second you agreed to meet with Mendell. Hasn't anyone been in contact to explain undercover protocol to you?"

She shook her head furiously, angrily fingering her satchel where her notes from that afternoon and her few cold calls to potential contacts were packed.

"Did you mean Melody Jacobs?" She repeated, moving to stand in front of him. The downward motion of the elevator was making her lightheaded with her nerves. "She's the one who's trying to get Jack Gaston to ask her out, right?"

"French, if you think I know what kind of depraved social experiments go on outside my office-"

"No, I mean, I think she may dislike me…due to his attention towards myself," Lacey managed, trying to be politically correct. "It may have… " She fumbled with a polite way to phrase this to the owner of the paper before deciding on, "…slipped her mind to call me with proper protocol for undercover assignments."

Reese nodded, glancing past her at their reflection in the metal of the doors before they slid open. He held his arm out for her to stay, exited the elevator, checked both ways and then motioned her out.

"Mendell called to say he approved of you covering the story but also mentioned a few photographers had followed him to the meeting. We were finalizing your backstory when his assistant called to finalize delivery of files for you. We had them sent to your apartment listed in your file before clearing you from our employee records."

"I don't-"she started but the older man paved ahead, walking a few steps in front of her and swerving his head as they exited the lobby towards the parking garage stairwell.

"If you were photographed with Mendell and then it was announced you worked here, you would have no chance of going undercover fully. We took the steps to be able to plausibly deny your employment here. No one should connect Lacey French, research and journalist from _The_ _Looking Glass_ as the same girl as Belle Ives, librarian and newest transplant in Storybrooke up in Maine."

"I already have a backstory?" She had been hoping to have a hand in it herself, give her the necessary tools she would need to delve into the dark past of unsolved cased like Greg's father-

"All at your apartment, which I believe is still under your father's name?"

"Yes…" she answered slowly, starting to wonder if she had not been picked due to her skill and ingenuity as much she had been picked due to convenience.

"Now, your car should stay here, out of the way. I've texted my usual driver, he's sending a man over to pick you up and take you back to your apartment. You will find your files, a new laptop, and a bus ticket to Storybrooke, and folder full of your new identity, including driver's license, birth certificate, credit cards, and a checking account that you will find has enough to get you through two months of hotel and board. A new cell phone registered to Belle Ives is also there, programmed to certain numbers including mine. Mendell is off the board for now, if you need to reach him, his assistant can help you."

"Sir," Lacey interrupted, taking a deep breath. "This is- I don't-... what I'm trying to say is- I don't think you had any intention of allowing me to turn down this assignment."

Reese looked at her over his glasses, texting quickly with his left hand before snapping his phone closed and throwing it in his coat pocket. He looked up at her with a glare that reminded her of her late father before sighing and looking back down.

"French, as I am sure is not news to you, the paper isn't doing well. Greg Mendell is offering a lot of money to bankroll us in advertising and his network is standing behind him with other programming advertising including print and online ads- the paper wasn't in a position to turn him down."

She nodded; she was all too aware the paper was having financial problems. She wrapped her arms around herself a little tighter, the cold air of end of October bracing even in her jacket. Reese seemed unfazed, but she noticed his ears were turning red.

"He wanted one of my best to go up to Storybrooke, do a few poking and prodding- problem was my best have all been nationally recognized as investigative reporters. He came in the office to meet Gaston-"

"You were going to send him?" Lacey exclaimed, casting a look of incredulity to Reese who shrugged.

"He's our senior journalist without any major awards- no one would place him as a writer for a paper- personal trainer cover story or something but Mendell came in, saw you arguing something with someone in the kitchen and asked for you. Liked your spirit, said he wanted someone with something to prove and while I was hesitant to send you- your work did speak for itself."

She brushed aside the uncomfortable feeling she had about Greg earlier; His pleasure at her being assigned had been less authentic than she had realized, she hated when she was outplayed but she acknowledged the TV show host had managed to play her rather well. She was slightly relieved she wouldn't be dealing with him for the majority of the story.

"But this story- it's- you know it's probably just going to be tilting after windmills," Lacey raised her arms in frustration. "There's no guarantee I'll find out what happened to all these people, and I'll have just been wiped off the face of this Earth until what- Mendell gets bored? I disappear? _The_ _Looking Glass_ closes?"

Headlights came swerving in from the upper deck as a green sedan pulled up towards them. They watched it approach and as it hummed to a stop, she sighed, shaking her head in frustration. The driver opened his door to emerge but Reese waved him back inside for a moment, turning to her.

She was breathing hard, heart beating rashly and her skin felt too tight. She didn't like the idea of going home now- now that she was no longer Lacey but some girl named Belle. Some girl no one knew because two days ago, she didn't exist. And a librarian? How was she going to get any information from anyone as some meek librarian?

"Lacey," Reese said calmly, and she focused despite herself. Mo Reese was infamous for never calling anyone by their first name- "You have my word, if you have found nothing substantial and you feel this is a fool's task, Christmas Eve I will bring you home, review a possible permanent move to a writer's desk, and make sure we tell this Mendell fellow where to stick his money."

She nodded, forcing a weak noise of agreement that she didn't feel. He nodded back, opening the door for her.

"Duckie, will you please get Fren-I'm sorry, Ives to her destination. She may also need to schedule a pickup to take her to the bus station tomorrow."

"Best of luck, Ives," he said quietly, shaking her hand firmly before heading down the dingy parking lot towards his usual spot.

She watched him for am moment, trying to swallow the dry ball in her throat before Duckie cleared his throat.

"Ma'am? You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied, sliding into the car and shutting the door firmly behind her.

**Author's Note:**

** First, I am sure some of you have a running tally of grammatical and spelling errors- please feel free to message me any. I am working without a beta and while I tried to catch them all- I am afraid I may have missed a few when I got caught up in tweaking the story instead of the structure. **

**Second, this story has not yet been completed. I posted a few chapters on FF but I am reworking these a bit as I publish over here. **

**Thanks for reading,**

**-B**


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Notes:_

_There are some original characters in this chapter as we enter Storybrooke. There is a reason for this. I repeat- there is a reason why Granny's in not run by Granny. There was not a curse and thus our favorite fairy tale characters never came to Storybrooke. But that doesn't mean they don't have a connection to it..and why a certain Sheriff and his Deputy are the only familiar faces. _

In less than two days' time, Lacey found herself standing at the Storybrooke bus stop, an idling bus door sliding shut behind her with a hiss. The bus creaked and groaned as it pulled away, back down the road, heading towards civilization and abandoning her in Small Town, USA.

She tore her eyes from the departing bus, biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood before she finally tore her gaze away to look around.

Old wooden buildings were nestled in with newer bricks buildings, pastel whites and creams, greens and yellows covered the storefronts with various mom and pop shops mixed with what appeared to be a post office and the occasional other government building. Hand painted signs, curtained windows and old blue mailboxes completed the picture.

It was simple, a few stores with their doors propped open to invite stragglers inside, the occasional car driving slowly down the street. The fall colors had already begun to fall off the trees, but all were carefully swept in piles off the sidewalk.

It was quaint, endearing and wholly unbearable.

Lacey closed her eyes and counted to five, reminding herself it was only for two months- when a large ringing reverberated down the street.

Opening her eyes, Lacey turned towards the noise, registering a large building, just visible over the top of the bus station gazebo where she was standing. A clock tower was nestled in its heights, its face glowing slightly in the morning sun. It was announcing noon, the chimes slowly fading out of the air as it finished its solemn duty.

As if to echo the clock, her stomach rumbled noisily, reminding her she hadn't eaten much since her lunch with Greg. She glanced around to see if there was a place she could sit down, maybe grab a bite to eat.

As it happened, across the street, a small local diner seemed to be already bustling for lunch. Lacey headed towards the light gray old house, going up the low porch steps before swinging open the glass door to enter.

It was one large room with a white lunch counter where a few people were sitting and talking animatedly with the chef while a few others read their newspapers quietly, chewing on a fry in afterthought.

A sign over the kitchen window read 'Welcome to Granny's' with fanciful lettering complete with woodsy printed wallpaper, hand drawn evergreens and oaks stenciled on the cream paper. Seating was readily available despite the crowd with the 50's vinyl booths along the wall with checkered tablecloths and metal aluminum tables on the floor with vinyl padded matching chairs skidding across the checkered tile floor.

Cute as Granny's was, it didn't take long for Lacey to discover the little town wasn't nearly as welcoming as she had at first anticipated it might be.

Upon her arrival, the closest server had pointed her hesitatingly over to a booth in the corner, a few diners turning around in their seats to watch her as she walked past. She avoided eye contact, keeping her eyes fixed on the menu, fighting off the itch to look up and glare at the gapers.

When her waitress finally come over, she stared openly at the suitcase before starting, "Welcome to Granny's, my name is Paige and I'll be serving you today- what can I get ya?"

"Actually, some coffee if you have it," Lacey said, rubbing her temple with her fingers. "Just got in town and I'm half asleep."

"Heading up to Canada?" Paige asked, flicking her eyes back to the suitcase. "We get a lot of people who like to take the scenic route."

"Stopping here actually," Lacey corrected, watching as Paige's eyes slide back to hers in curiosity before she averted them. "You wouldn't happen to know where I might find a realtor or someone, would you?"

"Small town like this," her waitress responded, cracking her gum as she aggressively started to tap her pen against her pad. "Don't have a lot of need for realtors - word of mouth usually serves us fine. Now, did you want to order something for lunch or-?"

Tampering down her rising annoyance, Lacey glanced down at the menu to buy herself a minute. Paige huffed, "Okay, let me get your coffee, I'll be right back."

Before Lacey could stop her, Paige had hustled off towards the bar area, a few customers glancing back at Lacey before leaning forward to Paige, talking in low voices obviously about her. She could see Paige bent down in conversation, her promise of coffee ignored in the face of all the undivided attention.

Lacey used the time to watch out the window beside her. People were walking about, a few running errands with bags at their sides but others just strolled, waving to each other from across the street, stopping and talking to each other. It seemed everyone more or less knew each other.

It was a very friendly town, she noted, knowing her usual city slicker persona would stick out like a sore thumb here. Glancing back around the diner, she watched as a few people left, waving goodbye to the rest of the lunch crowd and greeting those arriving. Lacey toyed with the silverware, worrying her lip in thought.

By the time, Paige came back, her stomach was loudly protesting. Smiling up at Paige the best she could through her foggy exhaustion, Lacey sweetened her tone before proceeding, "Sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to offend, I just, well I guess, -" Pausing, Lacey glanced down at her hands, before continuing in a low voice,"Could I just get the lunch special please?"

"Sure thing, hon," Paige replied, thawing slightly. She hurried away, but this time she went straight to the counter to put the order in, dropping off a few packets of creamer for the coffee moments later.

Lacey sat sipping her coffee and watching as the diner picked up swiftly, a few families coming in and a few blue collar guys taking over the lunch counter, all shouting their hellos and fighting about what to put on the lone TV perched in the corner. Paige dropped off the turkey club sandwich special before hurrying off to her other tables and Lacey sat forgotten, watching and occasionally toying with her phone, looking up the weather back home and desperately wishing she could check her now inactive e-mail.

So, it surprised Lacey when Paige came back, dropping off a small brochure on the table.

"You could always try the Inn," the waitress suggested, scooping up the empty plate as she dropped the bill off. "Eddie over there," she gestured towards a man who was sitting at the counter. "He works up there, probably could give you a ride so you don't have to hoof it."

As the waitress hurried away with her card, Lacey picked up the brochure. It was thin, a single one sided slip of paper that had a picture of two dark russet doors, cracked open to reveal a large chestnut staircase, sweeping upwards and out of the focus of the photo. The words "Storybrooke Inn" were stamped on the bottom of the paper in elegant calligraphy with a telephone number below it in block letters. Lacey flipped it over to see the backside was cream paper, noticing there was no address.

Luckily, Eddie, a middle aged balding man with a baseball cap pulled low over his protruding ears had been heading back up to the Inn after lunch. He agreed to give her a lift. He seemed incredibly shy, looking fixedly at his shoes the whole time, the tips of his ears turning red as they stuck out from under his cap.

Thanking Paige for the help, Lacey hurried back out into the sun, fumbling with her suitcase on the sidewalk cracks. Eddie was parked right out front, an old red ford pickup with Storybrooke Inn painted n fading green letters along the side. Eddie took the suitcase from her, tossing it in the back before swinging the passenger door open for her.

Fed and slightly warmed, Lacey felt much more herself as they headed up towards the coast where the Storybrooke Inn stood high on a cliff overlooking the otherwise flat city of Storybrooke. The town itself was laid out in a curved semi-circle, Main Street curving in an open parenthesis shape. The town surrounded the coast bay with woods flanking it on other sides, a nest of tranquility in between two forces of nature.

During the drive, Eddie pointed out a few landmarks, old buildings and the road to the docks but kept his eyes on the road the whole trip, stammering awkwardly whenever his eyes accidently met hers. Lacey took note of the bustling dock and the small stores that lined the streets, not recognizing any chain names.

Nearing the Inn's drive, she realized they had been going fairly uphill for the last few blocks, already over the valley where the diner had been.

As they drove through the large gated entrance of the Inn's drive, Lacey noticed the old antique iron wrought detailing around the opening. She turned in her seat to get a better look as they drove through, noticing the fence itself wrapped as far as she could see around the property itself. It appeared to switch from iron to solid brick before it disappeared along the hill crest leading towards the woods. The opposing side drifted towards the cliffs of the beach, waves roaring faintly over the wind.

She was surprised to find the Inn itself was a mammoth old manor with cobbled stones and dark accents with turrets and curved stone walls spreading out on the lawn and overlooking the city like a feudal castle of old. It reached up at least five stories tall, blockish with shorter wings on either side of it. It would have looked at home anywhere in England but it's color scheme and odd distorted shape lent itself to the land in a way that made it look like it had been built over the years to fit the ever-changing landscape of the seacoast.

"It's beautiful," she marveled, watching as the sunlight winked off the various windows of the top floors. "How old is it?"

"About a hundred years," Eddie answered, smiling slightly to himself at her genuine interest. "Old harbor town like this had to have a nice place for folks to gather."

"Do you all still get a lot of tourists?" She asked, turning to look at him. He had shaken his head fitfully at the attention, twitching his nose in embarrassment.

"That's a shame," Lacey murmured, craning her head as they pulled up to the front of the Inn. _How do they afford to upkeep this place? _She mused, noticing all the ground floor windows were sparkling clean, a few open to let in the fall sea breeze. _Must cost a fortune. _

Getting out of the truck, she made sure to thank Eddie, who nodded shyly, ducking his head down in his collared shirt before he had pointed her up the main stairs, handing her the suitcase from the bed of the truck.

As he got back in the driver's seat to move the truck, a woman opened the door, watching as Lacey started to struggle up the polished stone stairs with her suitcase. The woman watched Eddie drive around the building before she looked back down at Lacey, eyeing her suitcase with interest.

"Checking in?" The woman inquired. Lacey managed to bite back the scathing reply that rose to mind, instead smiling as best she could as she had dragged her suitcase up another step.

"New to town," she chirped; wincing as her curls flew into her face from the high winds off the coast, clawing them out of her eyes the best she could without tipping backwards down the stairs. "Someone told me you might have some vacancies?"

"Oh, dear," the woman sighed, pulling the door open wider to let her in. "You really aren't from around here, are you?"

"Just off the bus," Lacey replied, wheezing slightly as she finally topped the large stairs. "Eddie was kind enough to give me a lift from Granny's."

"Well, best come on in," the woman advised, shooing her in before walking in behind her. "What did you say your name was?"

Lacey turned from taking in the large entry way, double stairs curling upwards to the second floor landing, hunter green striped wallpaper faded from the years but still pressed neatly o the wall, an old heater humming merrily in the bowels of the building. "It's Belle, Belle Ives," she said, holding out her hand.

"Alice Aiken," her host supplied, gripping her hand for a moment before dropping it and continuing past the staircase to a small room off the main hall. "How many nights will you be staying with us, Ms. Ives?"

"Not sure, actually," Lacey answered honestly, putting down her suitcase. "I'm new to town so-"

Alice looked up at that, a look of hesitation flittering across the previously unreadable face. "Do you plan on staying in Storybrooke?"

"Fresh start," Lacey had murmured, glancing around at the old room with its dark colors and bookshelves. "Picked a direction and just rode the bus until I felt like stopping."

Alice looked back down at her computer, clicking a few things as she silently digested the information. Lacey busied herself looking around the room which appeared to be an old study, wood paneling along the windows was worn with time and sun but were carefully dusted and polished. A few newer pieces were scattered around the room including a Wi-Fi modem and router ducked on a nearby desk.

"It seems nice here," she continued through Alice's silence. "And I just really need a place to stop and catch my breath for a bit." Lacey paused, watching Alice out of the corner of her eye.

"Well then, you should probably head down to the Sheriff's office," Alice finally replied. "People usually post the odd housing notice or job opening down on the town bulletin board there. Sheriff Graham or Deputy Swann should be able to help. Eddie can take you down there on his way home this afternoon and one of the sheriffs can drop you bring you back up here on their rounds."

"I don't want to be any trouble-," Lacey started quietly but Alice cut her off with a shake of her head.

"Won't be a problem," she said. "Not a lot around here for those two to do, least they can do is give a girl a lift. Now, as you happen to be our only current guest, you have your pick of a view. Ocean or wood?"

Choosing a woods view, the fall foliage still beautiful despite the dropping temperatures, Lacey followed Alice up the stairs towards her room. "Is this your down season?" Belle asked, trailing her fingers along the balustrade.

"Our only real busy time is wedding season during the spring and our annual Gala, which is actually coming up in December."

"A Gala?" Lacey repeated, pausing to glance at an old gilded mirror which reflected her wind tossed hair and chapped lips back at her. The pale girl before her looked pathetic- red rimmed eyes from exhaustion and tense shoulders hunched forward. Lacey ignored her injured vanity, knowing her ragged appearance had probably helped more than hurt her today.

As Alice walked her to her room, she continued to explain that every year the town got together at the Inn, an old tradition from the town's first days as a trade outpost.

"Everyone comes- from the newborns to the elderly- celebrating fall's end with a huge dinner and a night of dancing before everyone goes upstairs to their room to sleep it off. It started as the harvest feast but over time, it just slowly transformed to a Christmas celebration, the town's way of bringing the community together out of the darkness."

"Sounds wonderful," Lacey quipped, trying to picture the population of a whole town under one roof.

"And we have the usual meetings and club gatherings in our ball rooms downstairs, we really only keep the second floor open for guests year long, all the other floors are closed off typically."

"Is the Inn on any historical marker list?" Lacey had asked, eyeing the old wood paneling of the individual doors.

"Sure is, but its' mostly just a local treasure and we honestly prefer it that way. Now, your room is just down this hall," Alice had replied, effectively ending the conversation.

Later that afternoon, Eddie drove her back down to town, dropping her off at a small building, tucked slightly off Main Street across the way from what appeared to be a coffee shop, Chip's Cup.

After a few moments of internally prepping herself, mostly just finalizing her backstory- new to town, bad break up, looking for a fresh start, Lacey gathered the character of Belle Ives around her like armor before striding forward to push the door open.

She stepped into the entryway, bell jangling merrily overhead and directly into unmitigated chaos.

A tall, lanky man who appeared to be the sheriff and a woman who appeared to be his deputy had both been standing at their respective desks. There was phones ringing, one on top of the other with loose paper scattered over every surface imaginable including the floor. A bullet ridden file cabinet was propping a jail cell door open, the cell's blankets were draped like a tent from the hanging water pipe overhead and a Dalmatian sat panting happily in the corner, his red collar askew.

Lacey's eyes wandered over the confused mess as she stood awkwardly in the doorway. The two harried sheriffs remained unaware of their new arrival, both too busy on the phone, wearily explaining in monotonous tones "The reason the main traffic light hadn't been fixed yet" and "No- the city isn't responsible for damages in the interim-"

Lacey was momentarily taken aback, glancing between the two young officers, both oblivious to her entrance and continuing to answer their respective phones, shoulders hunched in weary resignation. For a brief moment, Lacey considered leaving, overwhelmed with the sheer ludicrousness of the scene before her.

She resisted the urge to flee, finally managing to catch the Sheriff's attention by toying noisily with the zipper of her jacket. He looked up, rubbed the scruff on his face absently as he tried to place her before nodding in polite but tentative greeting. He motioned to a chair nearby just as another phone at the empty desk jingled to life.

That's when Lacey did something that surprised them all.

Stepping to the loudly ringing telephone, she picked it up with a sweet, "Sheriff's Office, this is Belle, how can I help you?" and managed to get the name, number and complaint of the townsperson, promised to have someone call them back by the end of business day and hang up without issue.

She was unofficially hired within an hour and by the second week, Sheriff Graham Hunt had agreed to a full time job with benefits. Her new position at the station gave her unrestricted access to old police files and potential leads. She couldn't have done better if she had actually tried.

However, working closely with law enforcement professionals while undercover proved to be more challenging than she anticipated.

Graham had been a simple nut to crack: hardworking, young with a lot to prove and a deep dedication to his hometown and community. He was welcoming and warm but deeply private about his own personal life; his only noticeable in professionalism was his obvious interest in his deputy sheriff.

The woman in question, Emma Swann, was an entirely different puzzle. A loner by nature, Emma was polite but curt with most people. She had an unusual manner that made Lacey feel uncomfortable without really knowing why. For the first few days, Lacey had avoided her as much as possible.

Unfortunately, Emma seemed unusually bothered by Belle, often asking pointed questions about her past and her family while avoiding any personal questions Lacey asked in return. Emma's constant attention hindered Lacey's initial attempts to glance through any old files. For a while, it looked like her luck at getting a job at the Sheriff's office was going to prove worthless.

As it happened, two weeks after her arrival, the seniors over at the school played their annual senior's prank during exams which involved fireworks, helium filled blow up dolls and a very angry goat in the air vents.

Before Graham returned from his early morning fishing trip, Lacey managed to help Emma safely put out the fires, wrangle all the floating sex toys from the gymnasium rafters, as well as return the goat to his home before he was missed.

Somewhere during the goat's near successful attempt to break down the patrol car's back window with his rear hooves, she and Emma became friends.

Over the weeks working with Emma and Graham, her constant searching through outdates and misfiled old cases kept her busy, writing notes on scraps of papers and snapping photos with cell phone camera. The real challenge was keeping the sweet natured Belle in character instead of reverting back to her usual skeptical and sharp tongued persona.

Which some days was harder than others.

One early December morning as she was trudging towards the sheriff's office for the day shift, the next large gust of wind surprised her and nearly knocked her sideways. She instinctively cursed, grabbing at a nearby street lamp as her feet started to slip out from under her on the ice.

"Language, Belle!" snorted a voice from behind her. She turned her head back to see Emma, holding two cups of coffee, heading back towards the Sheriff's office from Chip's Cup. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"I'm sorry, I must have just panicked," Lacey confessed, trying to brush off her slip as she tentatively released the lamp pole.

"You know, I don't think I ever heard you swear before," Emma said as she approached. "Must be hanging around me too much. What's with all the padding?"

"It's cold out here! What are you, crazy?" Lacey shivered, gesturing towards Emma's only layer, her signature red leather jacket. "You don't even have any gloves on!"

"I was going ten feet across the street, you wimp," Emma pointed out, joining her on the sidewalk and handing her one of the cups. Lacey curled her gloved fingers around it lovingly, raising it to her face and feeling the steam wafting through the lid. She paused before she took a sip of it, looking over at Emma with a grin.

"Now, is this for me or Sheriff Skinnypants?" Lacey teased, watching Emma redden slightly.

"No," Emma growled, frowning at her over the rim of her cup. "Graham's off today. I was just trying to perk up your morning, but if this is the thanks I get-" Emma pulled the door to the Sheriff's office open, Lacey rushing ahead of her to get out of the cold. "I'll take it back over there and tell them I work with an ingrate."

"No, no!" Lacey laughed, setting her cup down on her desk and shaking out of her parka. "It was really very sweet of you to think of me. Thank you, Emma."

"You are very welcome," Emma answered, waving her hand in a sarcastic sweep before bending her knee in a faux curtsey dip.

"You know, you are way too good at that," Lacey noted, sitting down and flipping her hair out from her scarf.

"Had practice," Emma muttered, plopping down at her desk and kicking her feet up.

"Beauty pageants?" Lacey asked distractedly, combing through the service calls from the night shift. She recognized most of the usual suspects- locals with too much time on their hands, neighbors with decade old vendettas, the town drunk and some fish pond-

"If only," Emma pulled out her cell phone and started punching at it in her usual direct way. "I hate this thing; I don't understand why I have to have a work cell phone on me at all times when this desk phone works just fine."

"Graham still hasn't texted you back?" Lacey asked, looking over just in time to see Emma's mouth tighten in a thin line.

"Seriously, Belle," Emma grumbled, avoiding her eye. "I'm seriously considering replacing you with a robot. Stop it with the whole Graham thing."

"Well then you two stop being so awkward around each other. The kid we were holding in here last week for skipping school was practically begging me to call his mom by the time I got back from my lunch break, told me he couldn't take _Days of Our Lives_ anymore."

Emma looked over with a raised eyebrow, "Days of what now?"

"It's a soap opera," Lacey waved it off. Apparently, Emma had grown up with her grandparents who didn't believe in cable or VCRs. She often completely missed pop culture references others, shooting others a bewildered, confrontational glare when she didn't understand a joke.

Lacey reached for last night's call log which she had printed out from their voicemail system. "Hey, looks like Mrs. Silverton called again just a minute ago."

"That the lady from Tennessee looking for her son?" Emma asked, sipping her coffee and continuing to toy with her phone.

"Yea," Lacey mumbled, rereading the details. "She's been calling pretty regularly lately, hasn't she?"

"Graham mentioned families often pick up calling around the anniversary, it's on their minds more." Emma shrugged, keeping her eyes on her phone screen. Lacey started to memorize the information, careful to note the number and name so she could double check it against her files when she got back to her apartment.

"The kid was supposed to be in Canada at the time, how could he possibly have been outside Storybrooke?" Emma continued, flipping on her desk lamp.

"I don't know," Lacey murmured distractedly, trying to remember the last missing person case information she had unearthed while "helping file" the other day. Greg's father's case was over twenty years old and had been buried in the back under wildlife accident but a few others in the interim years had disappeared or had been reported missing in the winter months, fitting with the winter solstice timeline.

Lacey pulled the file up on her old computer. No one had heard from Joshua Silverton since his last text to his girlfriend before he stopped for gas on the main highway north. The filed report noted the office had informed Mrs. Joanne Silverton her son had never been to town, had no record of him driving through and no explanation on why his cell phone tracker showed his last location as being within twenty miles of the small town.

Emma grumbled some more before stretching slightly, hands reached out as she said, "Just give it to me and I'll file it."

Lacey nodded, careful not to show any outward sign of interest as she wordlessly handed it over. Emma was sharp and had keen observation skills. She often liked to unnerve people by telling them she could always tell if they were lying.

In Lacey's experience, it took a liar to spot one.

Casually elbowing her notepad, Lacey knocked her pen to the floor, leaning down nonchalantly to pick it up. She let her hair fall into her face as she bent down. She watched through her curtain of curls as Emma quickly folded the paper and stuck it in her jacket pocket, continuing to flick through her cell phone.

Lacey straightened, tucking her hair behind her ear, turning back to her work with a frown. She doubted that call would ever be logged and she glanced back at Emma, eyeing her doubtfully.

Working together often could be tense at times. Both women felt deep down that the other one wasn't being completely honest. A few probing conversations had finally led Lacey to drop that Belle may not be her real name, but a possible cover from an old abusive flame. Emma had seemed satisfied, dropping the subject completely.

On the other hand, Emma's story about being raised by her grandparents out in the boonies of northern New York never felt quite true either- and she tended to avoid the topic whenever it came up.

Lacey didn't want to think Emma had anything to do with the disappearances but...

Emma was relatively new to town as well. Most of the town didn't trust her yet. She also had a tendency to be a bit of a lone wolf. Often doing what she felt best instead of following the rules and procedures the Sheriff's office had in place to deal with small town problems.

Of course, Lacey had toyed with the idea that Emma was here for the same reason she was- but Emma never seemed curious about the things that seemed odd to Lacey.

Phone calls from a worried mother were handled perfunctory while Lacey kept hoping for a chance to talk to the woman- find out what her son was doing around here and why he may have ended so far off course. Other missing cases that Lacey dragged out or "discovered misfiled" were often ignored, both Graham and Emma shrugging them off before they changed the subject to a more recent issue at hand.

All in all, life in Storybrooke stayed calm, easy going and pleasant…if one liked small towns.

So, her first few weeks had mostly been full of research, getting to know owners of shops, talk to people who came to the station, build herself up as someone you could talk to, confide in- but small town people had a different view of outsiders. While they found Belle warm and inviting often stopping to talk with her, they still tended to keep to themselves about their own business.

Graham, who had been born and raised here, had told her one night not to worry so much about it.

"People will warm up to you over time," he said, bumping down the secondary main road as he took her home after a late shift. "Just give them some time to get to really know you. Hell, most of them still don't care for Emma and she's been here almost a year now."

She dismissed the odd feeling, chalking it up to Emma's disdain for paperwork. She returned to her usual morning routine. It was a slow day, a few calls came in but the winter weather seemed to be keeping most people inside and out of trouble. Graham called around five to tell them to go ahead and close the office for the night, an early Christmas present.

"God, I can't believe it's almost Christmas," Lacey said, following Emma out the door, flicking off the lights as they left. "I swear it was just summer yesterday."

"I like it," Emma replied, blinking up at the night sky. Lacey stopped besides her, gazing up as well.

The stars were out, clear and bright this evening rivaling for attention with the Christmas lights strung along every roof and store front as far as the eye could see. The two women stared up for a bit, both adrift in their own thoughts when a loud honking startled them out of their reverie.

Down the road, a couple was waving goodbye to their friends, driving away in an old pickup, the back of the truck filled with logs.

"Are they chopping down trees for firewood?" Emma started forward, her authority face firmly set before Lacey held her arm out to stop her. "I didn't see a permit for-"

"Relax, Emma!" Lacey quietened, lowering her arm. "It's just the Jones. Some trees fell down on their farm last week during the storm. They're giving the excess wood away; they stopped by the station earlier this week to see if we needed any."

Emma nodded, twisting her hands in her jacket, staring off at the disappearing truck bed. Lacey bit her cheek, knowing what was really bothering the blonde.

"I'm sure they stopped at your place, Em," Lacey assured. "You probably were just working late when they did."

"Yea, sure," Emma consented but it lacked conviction. "You' know, you've only been here a month and everyone's already half in love with you. 'That nice Belle girl is such a doll- can't understand why she's not settled down yet' while most people cross the street to avoid talking to me…"

"Yes, Emma, because you know I just I love it when people I barely know discuss me and my life choices," Lacey deadpanned, causing Emma to crack a grin. "Besides Graham likes you just fine. And so do I. The others will get there; you just… take some adjusting to, is all."

Emma looked far away for a moment, glancing back up at the sky before back at her shoes.

"Yea, I get that a lot."

Lacey nudged her with her elbow, trying to break her out of her bad mood. She considered what to do with the night as they wandered down the road, the temperature dropping fast.

She had hit a low point in her research and while the disappearance of the young man last year was a credible lead, she still wasn't sure what she was going to tell Reese when he called in four days. She was eager to get home, back to an actual career and an apartment with a dishwasher.

Back to a life where she was Lacey French, investigative reporter for _The_ _Looking Glass_ instead of Belle Ives, Storybrooke Sheriff's Secretary.

"Let me buy you a hamburger," Lacey decided suddenly, heading off towards the diner without waiting for a response.

"Oh, twist my arm a little harder, "Emma groaned laughingly, trudging along.

"What are friends for?" Lacey retorted, picking up the pace.

The two walked side by side down the path, a few flurries dusting the lawn outside the diner. The promise of more snowfall that evening made them hurry inside, shaking their boots off at the door.

"Hey, what did you say you were doing Saturday night?" Lacey asked, noticing a local ad for the big Christmas Gala. She recalled talking about it when she had checked into her room. Even Graham had brought it up the other day, showing excitement about something other than guns and hunting for a change.

"It's an annual town tradition," Graham had said, eyeing Emma across the room. "Everyone goes."

"This Saturday?" Emma asked looking over the menu, despite the fact she got the hamburger every single time.

"Yea," Lacey confirmed, finding her usual sandwich on the menu. "Just thinking about sharing a room for the Gala- unless you already made room reservations with someone else?"

"Uh, I think I already have plans," Emma mumbled, keeping her gaze fixed on the menu. "I'll have to see- maybe we could do something Sunday instead?"

Lacey unlocked her phone, going to check the weekend's dates. She noticed the diner had a calendar perched on the windowsill, a merry and bright countdown to Christmas. She leaned forward to check the dates and froze.

That upcoming Saturday was the 21st.

Marked clearly as this year's Winter Solstice.

She sat back down heavily, looking at the calendar, mouth slightly open and brow furrowed. Emma glanced up from her menu, noticing her expression.

"Belle, what is it? You look like you've just seen a ghost," Emma grew concerned, peering out the window as if looking for someone.

"Oh no, I'm fine," Lacey promised, reaching for her sweet tea and waving her hand to dispel Emma's panic. "Just warmed up too fast- got woozy for a second."

"Oh," Emma replied, cocking her head in concern. She looked like she was considering pressing the issue but Lacey offered a shaky smile, forcing herself to relax. Emma finally nodded in begrudging acceptance before asking, "What were you saying before?"

"I was wondering what you were doing Saturday night," Lacey repeated, trying for nonchalant as she picked up her menu again. Her heart was beating oddly, thumping loudly enough she was sure Emma could hear it across the table.

"Just something-," Emma was saying, pushing at the salt shaker absently. "It's my one year anniversary here- thought I'd stay in with a glass of wine and toast my small accomplishments, watch some movie I've never seen before, get drunk out of self-pity and stay out of everyone's way- can't we just do something Friday instead? I won't be any fun Saturday and besides I hate getting all dressed up."

Lacey nodded along in forced agreement, trying not to look at Emma.

She knew the other woman was lying. Emma wasn't really the type to host a pity party for one, much less admit to it. The deputy hated anything resembling weakness _especially_ when it came to herself.

Now, avoiding a social event where everyone in town would be attending- that did sound like Emma.

The whole town knew Emma but only four or so of them actually went out of their way to speak to her. Most townspeople including the serving staff at the diner and coffee shop kept a careful almost cautious distance from her.

Even now, Lacey noticed a family sitting nearby looking over nervously, the young mother catching Lacey's eye and looking guiltily away.

This was strange in Lacey's opinion. Graham's excuses aside, they had all warmed to Belle after a few days. Lacey had marked that up to her small skills at being able to read people but now, sitting at a booth across from her colleague- now she wasn't so sure.

It definitely was an odd coincidence the Winter Solstice just happened to also be Emma's one year anniversary in Storybrooke. But as she looked outside, watching a man stumbling along as his dog pulled against his leash in the cold night, she had to admit that if Greg hadn't pointed out the winter solstice pattern, Emma's reluctance probably wouldn't seem odd at all.

Most people didn't like authority figures, Lacey considered, especially a small town community where a practical stranger to the town was second in command to the Sheriff himself. A young woman at that.

She looked up catching Emma's eye. Both sat for a moment, the awkward feeling of uncertainty hanging between them.

"So, are you getting the chicken?" Lacey managed to joke, knowing full well Emma would order her usual- a rare hamburger with extra pickles and hot sauce.

Emma rolled her eyes with a groan as she kicked at Lacey's shins under the table causing them both to start chuckling dispelling the tension.

Lacey decided put it the whole mess of her head for the night, noting she could always see if she could get any more information about Emma from Graham if it still bothered her in the morning.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**If you are interested in what the Inn looks like, and it will be featured more in the next chapter- I based the initial look and feel on the Norumbega Inn. My version is much larger since I had to fit a whole town in there but I loved the look of the old place. **

**Again, please DM me with any notices on spelling/grammar errors- working without a beta is a dangerous business. **


	3. Chapter 3

Saturday morning, Lacey blinked herself awake. With a jaw cracking yawn, she reached out blindly to silence the screeching noise that was currently emitting from her alarm clock. She managed to silence the mechanical noise, eyeing the small device with a frown before glancing out the window beyond it. Outside it was starting to flurry, chunks of white snow drifting along with the wind.

Rubbing her face with her hands, she willed herself to sit up. Completing that small victory, she let out another silent yawn and ruffled her bed head lazily. She glanced at her phone, pulling up the weather. It was supposed to stop snowing by night fall with temperatures staying well below freezing for the longest night of the year.

She leaned on her elbows to better see out her window. She watched the swirling pattern of snow for a moment before giving in to nature's increasingly insistent call. She padded across the cold wooden floor, grateful she had managed to keep her socks on while asleep and let herself into the bathroom.

Usually she liked to sleep in on Saturdays but today was the big event up at the Inn. Graham had explained most people got dressed, packed up the car and headed up there to get ready as a town. Some were already helping set up the ball room or helping out in the kitchen while others spent the whole days upstairs socializing and primping for the big night. Since Emma was continuing to be sullen and refusing to attend, Lacey planned on getting ready mostly at home.

This year's Gala was a masquerade theme. Most people had spent the past few weeks discussing their costumes and masks in great detail. Which completely defeated the purpose as Emma had sarcastically albeit correctly pointed out earlier that week.

Emma had been no fun all week, ignoring any attempt to drag her into conversation about the Gala. As nice as everyone in Storybrooke was, Lacey preferred the deadpan sense of humor that Emma wielded like a weapon over the usual pleasantries and small town charm of the other young women their age. Lacey was still privately hoping Graham would be able to convince their co-worker to go to the ball. She had even reserved a room with two beds just in case.

Brushing her teeth, Lacey caught her mirror's reflection, noticing the bags under her eyes. Souvenirs from all her late night researching after completing a full day working at the office. But before she could lament over them, her eye fell on something behind her.

Hanging from the door was a rental dress. It was a gorgeous coral princess cut ball gown with scalloped neck and shoulder straps that looped the upper arm, showcasing the collar bone and shoulders of the lady. It dipped down in boning with golden highlights and as the dress fell in heavy folds of the voluminous skirt, the dress became more and more sunset gold.

She had even ordered a pair of golden heels from an online boutique and purchased some matching costume jewelry as well as a golden mask to perch in her hair during the dancing. A perfect goodbye dress for the meekly sweet Belle Ives.

Lacey lightly touched the dress, stripping off her pajamas as she turned the hot water on in the shower. As far as her journalism career, Lacey had packed it up that week. Her notes were scanned on to her laptop. All hard copies and scribbles burned in the kitchen trashcan, window open just in case the smoke got too bad.

Now, she was just waiting for Reese to call her phone, so she could tell him if there was a story here, no one knew about it. Her last potential lead had fizzled out when the oldest town resident Ms. Stonage had kept her for five hours going on about the history of the town and the minor scandals it had faced putting in a sewer system back in the day.

Founded by S. Teller, blah blah blah, settled by his descendants and keeping a small town community in the face of today's metro lifestyle, blah blah blah. Lacey had very nearly fallen asleep over her tea and biscuits. Her attempt to delve into the mysteries of the town ("But have you heard of all those odd disappearances in the woods? Do you think it was bears? Or- you know, maybe even something worse?") had been met with a serene smile and the question of whether she would like more milk in her tea?

All her time in the record room at the Sheriff's office had proven nothing more interesting. A few wolf related deaths in the early years of the station, a couple bears had eaten a few campers in the early seventies but no town person had disappeared since the early fifties- all cases were out of towers, people who seemed to be drawn to the wooded areas on the winter solstice and who found themselves in very unfortunate spots with the local wildlife.

She had just about convinced herself that Greg's father had been eaten by a bear when she had first noticed the missing Silverton case from the year before.

But when even Graham had brushed it aside, saying if the kid had ever been to Storybrooke it was one thing but that there was no evidence he had never stepped foot in the town. Unconnected.

Lacey was just toweling off her hair, slicking on some gel so she could curl it when a small thought suddenly crystalized in her mind. She let the towel fall to the floor, stepping over it towards the bedroom.

Pulling out her original notebook, buried under her underwear and half-forgotten since she had typed in most of those notes to her computer, she settled down cross legged in her bathrobe on her bed.

She flipped to her original interview with Greg, pulling out a map of the local trails she had picked up from the town's only outpost. She carefully followed the interstate with her finger to the area Greg had mentioned he had been picked up.

The first thing she noticed on the map was that the Inn was on the opposite side of town. The furthest point away inside the city limits. The edge of the woods backed up against some farming land, then some houses and then the main alternate street, followed by the same layout on the other side of town of houses and farms and then the Inn, stuck on the edge of town, high overhead like an afterthought fortress.

From her time at the Inn, she knew it was mostly used for local events. The only time people ever stayed there were now out of town family and friends who came back to visit, wedding parties or the yearly Gala. It was a historic place, not any kind of viable money making operation. Alice and Eddie were the only fulltime staff. Alice mostly cleaned and cooked for the few guests and Eddie did most of the repair work. A few other local family companies came in to help clean, cook, and work when a large group rented out a hall but for the most part- the Inn stood over the town, looking down at the people but removed from them.

But the annual Gala was held on the solstice- an entire town gathered together in the remotest place in town.

Lacey stared at her rough sketches for a few minutes, grabbing a pen and circling the area Greg had been found (Mile Marker 90 according to the local police report) and the Inn which was roughly parallel to Mile Marker 145, the two laying between the two circles.

Something was missing but Lacey couldn't quite grasp it- hadn't Greg said something about locals picking him up the next morning? How could he have gotten so close to the Interstate by wandering deeper into the woods? He would have had to have been turned around…and there was no mentions of any old properties in the wooded area on the map- the gate he had mentioned could be anywhere in the miles and miles of woods that surrounded Storybrooke. And no one she had talked to had mentioned any kind old ruins or property past the city limits.

She began to plot different routes, periodically checking notes on other disappearances, noticing the stretch of highway that led through Storybrooke was littered with odd bends and twists in an otherwise straight highway up the coast-

She nearly knocked her laptop off its precarious perch in surprise when her phone suddenly lit up with a loud beep.

EMMA NOT HOME. SHE WITH YOU?

She frowned at the phone, typing a negative to Graham who responded back right away.

CAN YOU TRY AND CALL HER?

She did but the phone went straight to Emma's blunt voicemail, "I don't understand why you think leaving a message is going to make me call you back any sooner-" She left a message asking Emma to call her or Graham when she noticed the time.

It was already nearly two p.m.

With a muffled curse, she leapt up off the bed, heading towards her closet to get dressed. She had spent over three hours bent over maps and notes and now she was running late to check in. She texted Graham to let him know she was heading up to the Inn and would call him if she heard from Emma before grabbing a pair of jeans. She was careful to store her notes back away as she gathered her night bag.

* * *

The Inn had asked everyone to check in before four to get an accurate dinner count. Lacey pulled up to the Inn, just as they lit the front walk up, lanterns and fairy lights twinkling in the darkening evening. Night fell rapidly across the northern sky here in Maine

She lugged her bag out of her car, handing her keys to the valet dressed as coachmen, noticing a few senior boy serial pranksters who waved at her, grinning over the chin strap of their odd uniform.

Saying hello to a few other people she recognized from her usual rounds, she headed to the check in counter. After a brief chat with Alice, who assured her she wasn't the last one to check in; Lacey headed up to her room. It was a madhouse already. She maneuvered the narrow halls nodding hello, dodging kids half dressed as fairies and dragons running in the hall while tugging her overnight bag behind her in the narrow corridor.

Letting herself into her room, she slumped against the door with a heavy sigh. But the infectious energy of the night was catching and she quickly began to get ready. She arranged her usual curls in a low bun and tilted her mask like a tiara into her chestnut hair. She was putting her shoes on when a knock on the door startled her.

Hoping it was Emma, she flung open the door to find Sheriff Graham looking forlorn on the other side, a bow and arrow slung over his shoulder.

"Robin Hood?" She guessed gamely, but he shook his head.

"The Huntsman," he mumbled dejectedly. She stepped back to let him in and he slouched past her, fingers plucking absently at his bow's string.

She took a minute to admire him. He was wearing very attractive tight buff breeches and a black shirt with a leather vest over it. His hair wasn't pushed back as usual, following in curls around his ears and the nape of his neck. Lacey refrained from commenting on the eyeliner he had seemed to put on. It worked for him but she wondered how he knew that. A black Zorro mask dangled limply around his neck, the forgotten icing on the cake.

"You heard from Emma?" He asked, leaning against the old dresser. The rooms were remodeled in the eighties and hadn't been updated much since; Graham's tall lean frame dwarfed the room making her feel slightly claustrophobic.

"No," she replied honestly, checking her phone one more time before slipping it into her hand bag. "I actually thought she was just being dramatic but looks like she meant it."

Music was beginning to swell up from the main hall, curling up into the air. People's doors were closing and opening, footsteps hurrying down the hallway towards the food and drink awaiting them downstairs.

"Damn it," Graham growled. Lacey lifted an eyebrow at him in surprise and he reddened a bit. "Sorry, it's just- this is a town tradition- she should be here, show she wants to be a part of this community."

"Yea, I think everyone in town is here," Lacey replied, slipping on her shoes, careful not to wrinkle her dress. "I even saw old man Richards and I didn't think he ever left his house."

"It's an unwritten law, "Graham shared, scratching the back of his neck. "If you are a part of this town, if you want to be counted, you attend the Gala. Emma not being here is a flat refusal to be accepted, if she's really set on turning her back-"

"Turning her back?" Lacey asked, pausing in strapping on her left pump. "That's a little dramatic, isn't it?"

"Uh- well figuratively speaking," Graham corrected, looking flustered. He straightened and strode to the window, looking out into the darkness. Lacey peered around him, noting that the entire town below them was black. It looked like no lights had been left burning, no one at home. The Inn standing in the wood like a glowing beacon on a hill.

"Whoa, did they close the gates?" Lacey asked, leaning around him. "They must be serious about no drunk drivers, huh?"

"Yea, just so people don't get drunk and try to do something stupid," Graham answered but he avoided her eye. He scratched the back of his neck before finally looking over at her.

'Sorry, Belle," he mumbled abashedly. "I didn't even tell you how beautiful you look."

"I'll forgive you," Lacey grinned up at him. "But only if you escort me into the Gala so I'm not some new girl out all on my own."

"My lady," he replied, bowing. "It would be my honor."

* * *

The night passed in a blur of champagne and excessive eating. Lacey often put her hand to her corseted stomach with a grimace of pain as she ignored her own limitations for just one more bite of the strawberry cheesecake or the roasted chestnuts.

Graham was patrolling the hallways, checking to make sure no one was asleep drunk in the stairwells or causing a ruckus on their floor. He apparently got a free room for this service and Alice offered her the same deal if she watched the ballroom while he patrolled.

During the height of the party, Alice sided up to her, dressed in a stunning gray gown that flared out at the waist but showed off her small torso and stately shoulders.

"Enjoying the festivities?" Alice asked. She handed Lacey another flute from the passing waiter, another local teen who was busier watching the girl in front of him than where he was walking.

"This is wonderful," Lacey enthused, gratefully accepting the glass. "I had no idea Jack Kennedy was such a dancer."

"Careful," Alice laughed, watching the man in question spinning a woman around in his arms. "If you dance with him more than twice, he won't leave you alone for the rest of the night. He loves his dancing."

Lacey joined in on the laughter, noticing a few familiar faces laughing like children, dancing merrily to the music playing throughout the hall. The youngsters had all been taken to bed. The young and young at heart still keeping the party alive in the already wee hours of the morning.

"Graham just popped out to the lobby; he mentioned some of the valets from earlier were having a bit too much fun."

Alice nodded, "Happens every year, they volunteer to work mostly for free beers they sneak out of the kitchen but I was young once- I remember how it was to have that first beer on the solstice."

Lacey looked over at the woman, noticing the fine lines and deep laugh marks around Alice's face. Alice caught her looking and grinned at her, "I'm not that old I don't remember my first real Gala, young lady," Alice reprimanded her lightly.

Lacey felt the champagne loosening her tongue and she blurted, "Why is it such a big deal to you all? I mean I think it's wonderful but-"

"You don't understand," Alice finished for her, raising her own glass to her mouth and taking a drink. "Course you don't, dear. You're still an outsider."

Lacey felt a slight tinge of sobriety return as Alice turned her eyes to her, cutting out the laughter and music of the party around them. Lacey noticed Graham reentering the party, head turning as he searched for a face that they both knew wasn't in the crowd.

"But perhaps not for much longer," Alice concluded, mistaking Graham's search for Emma as something else entirely.

"Alice," Lacey started, frowning at the older woman but Alice shook her head, watching as a young man went to open the back door.

"Josh," Alice called out, authority coloring her tone. "Close that door this instance, I doubt Ginnifer wants to catch pneumonia before she goes back to school after the holidays. You know the rules."

The young man and his date blushed nicely, closing the door guiltily and heading back towards the far corner of the dance floor where a few of their friends sat watching with smirks on their faces.

"Every year," Alice sighed, shaking her head as she watched the two retreat. "Honestly, it's not like they don't know better."

"What's wrong with letting the kids out for a bit of air?" Lacey asked, confused and thinking a good breeze would be wonderful right then. Alice turned from her, watching as Graham made his way over.

"It's not about letting them out," Alice said quietly. "It's about letting things in."

Lacey opened her mouth in question but Graham had reached them.

"Come on, Belle," he said, grasping Lacey's hand for the lively jive that had just come on the speakers, "I hear you haven't danced at all tonight."

He pulled her away from Alice who turned to talk to someone else already. Graham ignored her protests, pulling her to him in a swinging motion. She laughed despite herself as she collided into another dancer as he spun her away again.

The dance seemed to pass quickly but as another song started, familiar face after familiar face asked for the next dance. Lacey lost time of the night as she talked and laughed, danced and spun. Slowly as the night wore on, Belle Ives became a member of Storybrooke and Lacey French forgot to care.

Hours later, Lacey was sitting by the large ornate gilded window on the south side of the room, resting her feet. Graham had gone on his last patrols, locking up the front door and checking all fire exits to make sure they were fastened securely but still easily opened in case of emergency.

It was just past two a.m. and the ballroom was empty except for a few youngsters slow dancing and a few older chaperons falling asleep in their chairs.

A couple sneaked towards the stairwell, only to find a sleeping chaperon wearily stand and march them towards the elevator, bent on making sure they got to their respective rooms safely.

Just as the last couple was being whisked off the dance floor by what appeared to be their parents, Graham re-entered, talking with Alice who was gesturing towards the lights. He nodded and Alice waved goodnight at Lacey who waved feebly back across the large hall.

Graham approached her, covering his yawn with the back of his hand.

"Well, that's it. Night's done. What do you say to-"

He stopped short, leaning over her to peer out the window.

"Graham, what are you doing-" Lacey asked, turning to look and stopping short herself.

A figure on horseback was standing just outside the lights from the ballroom beyond the main gate. The horse pawed the earth fitfully while the rider stayed perfectly motionless, their face turned towards the light.

"Who is that? It's not Emma, is it?" Lacey asked. She stood and forced Graham over slightly.

"What would she be doing out there at two in the morning?" Graham breathed, backing up slightly to head towards the closest exit.

The rider noticed. With a sudden movement, the horse was off, rushing along the low gate area on the south lawn towards the woods and away from town.

"What are you doing?" Lacey cried, rushing after Graham as he whipped open the back door. Cold air blew in. It felt refreshing for a moment in the heated room of the hall before the goose bumps started to rise along her arms.

"Go back inside," Graham ordered, rushing towards the stables. The Inn kept a few horses for the families in town but Lacey hadn't ever considered whether either he or Emma could ride.

"But-"she started, rushing after him. She was thankful she had chosen thicker heels when they didn't sink into the lawn, allowing her to keep up with Graham's longer strides.

"Get back inside now!" Graham shouted, flinging open the stable door and startling the horses. One bay towards the front neighed in excitement, pawing at the ground when he recognized Graham.

"Is that your horse?" Lacey asked in amazement, her city girl showing more than she meant. Graham was already jumping up, bareback and urging the horse out of the stall. The horse neighed eagerly again, pulling forward on its stirrups.

"Get inside and lock the door behind me, Belle," Graham shouted. "I'll bring her back. That absolute crazy woman, she knows the dangers of tonight-"

"I don't understand-"Lacey started but he was already off, leaning forward as he rushed towards the south lawn. The horse cleared the low fence as easily, running faster, gaining ground.

"What the hell is going on around here?" Lacey shouted to the empty yard, wrapping her arms around herself. The town was pitch blank beneath them, the echoes of horse hooves fading as Graham disappeared towards the town-

Wait.

He was going towards the town! The other rider had turned into the woods at the main turn- where the hell was he going?

She swung the stable doors shut as best she could, before rushing down to the gate. She could barely see anything in the darkness and the cold was starting to turn her blue when she heard a horse scream in the darkness, an echo like a gunshot following.

"Oh screw this," she breathed, adrenaline flooding her body. Something was going on and she was not going to waste her own chance at figuring out what this town was hiding with its crazy traditions and obviously lovesick Sheriff riding off into the wrong direction.

She climbed up over the gate, barely avoiding falling on her face as the gown tangled about her legs. She pulled it up in bunches, pushing herself forward, feet slapping the ground. She swore slightly as she kept almost slipping due to the clunky heels. She was desperately trying to make it towards the woods as fast as she could, already regretting not going back for a jacket.

The wind was picking up, tossing her mumbled complaints back into her throat. She kept jogging along awkwardly, pushing her legs, holding up her skirt with her hands. The cold froze her ankles and the muscles in her thighs protested the uneven ground.

She couldn't catch her breath. Her lungs were on fire with the cold wind freezing her throat closed. She stopped, wheezing at the forest's edge, already admit defeat and return to the Inn when she saw it.

A horse with no rider stood just ahead on the hill by the forest. It was pawing the ground, tossing its head fitfully.

"Oh well this is just great," she moaned, forcing herself forward towards the rider-less horse. "You'll be the only," she gasped. "The only journalist to ever break a story while wearing a ball gown in the middle of the woods, Lacey girl."

She kept hitting roots and stones, stumbling and falling forward, scrapping her arms up but she finally managed to teeter up to the horse that now stood motionless in the darkness.

The saddle and reins were still in place. Lacey eyed them uncertainty before tentatively grasping it. Just as her fingers closed around the leather another gunshot rang out across the silent night. The horse pulled towards it. Lacey held him back, almost getting herself kicked for her trouble.

"Not without me, you don't," she told it harshly. The horse swung his head, turning and fixing her with its black stare. An odd relaxation spread through her cold limbs and Lacey smiled with a lazy grin. The horse snorted and she nodded in silent agreement before looking about her.

A nearby stump solved her problem. She clambered unladylike on top of the strange horse. Part of her knew she was going to get herself killed but she somehow felt compelled not to be too concerned.

As she grabbed the reins and tried to remember what they said about riding a horse, it took off. The animal galloped straight into the woods, ignoring her startled protest and her feeble slaps and kicks as he plunged ahead with his reluctant rider.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Once again, sorry for any mistakes, I do not have a beta. I got a beta fish but he unfortunately was no help proofing this chapter and I think I may have misunderstood the purpose of said animal…**

**Next chapter, a few new faces and a few more steps out of Lacey's comfort zone. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four  
**

* * *

Racing through the night, Lacey could barely hang on for her life, terror locking her fingers tight on the reins of the runaway horse. She found herself being carried through the night, unable to do anything but manage to stay aboard the hell ride, her prayers and shouts falling on deaf equine ears.

The only sounds in the night were the rapid breathing of the galloping horse, the regular ta-dum, ta-dum of the fall and rise of his hooves, the wind whistling madly around them as Jack Frost followed them on their course. Her own heartbeat falling into the racing rhythm of the steed below her, her gasping whimpers muffled in its coarse mane.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, face buried in the neck of the horse as she desperately tried to hold on. The uneven terrain was causing her to bounce and rock in her seat, developing saddle sores while her muscles screamed at her in silent unholy protest.

She had long given up any hope of finding the mysterious rider. Her earlier clumsy attempts to control their course had ended up with the obstinate horse nearly throwing her. At this point, her only goal was focusing on keeping her seat. Old horror stories of people breaking their necks or cracking their head open from horse related falls forefront in her mind. _You're a city girl,_ she thought wildly, squeezing her eyes shut as they approached a fallen tree in their path, _why the hell did you think you could ride some strange horse_?

But she could only remember her determination to mount the horse, to find her mysterious rider, all in some desperate last mind effort to find a clue on the story which had taken over her life with its oddities and dead end leads. Now, her mind was clouded by an overwhelmingly strong survival instinct – the urge to stay alive blocking out all other thought.

As the trees rushed past them, the horse moving effortlessly through the wood, Lacey could only cling to his back, in spite of the pain and terror enveloping her in the darkness.

Her dress was hiked up uncomfortably around her knees, the cold air and unrelenting wind stinging her legs like needles in a hurricane. Hell, she could barely feel her toes anymore since she had lost her heels on their first downhill rush. Her hair was blown out of its elaborate pinnings, curls drunkenly bobbing down her back and her mask long ripped off by some low hanging branch.

The horse leapt again, clearing an old log, determined on his invisible course, screaming fiercely whenever she attempted to tug at the reins or feebly kick his sides. She had been hoping for him to tire out or to find a safe spot to attempt a fall but her an odd desire to stay on the horse always stopped her, the fear of falling, breaking her neck keeping her clinging on for dear life.

Her toes were starting to go completely numb she realized bleakly. She fought to move them but the sharp pain that resulted in this just brought more tears to her wind burned eyes.

Lacey felt the mascara sliding down her cheeks and she rubbed her bare arm against her cheek as best she could in her bent over position, whimpering at the goose bumps and blue tone of her arms rasped across her raw face.

Her legs were on fire, her thighs were rubbed raw on the saddle and she was hiccuping in pain when she finally felt her grip start to loosen. She clutched at the horse tighter, mumbling prayers to whatever god was listening, thinking desperately about her old apartment, the way the light shone through in the late mornings on to the white comforter- the smell of printer ink – everything waiting back home- back where she was Lacey French.

And then with a violent shiver, she felt herself go limp. Slipping backwards off the saddle, she squeezed her eyes shut even more tightly around the tears, preparing for impact, knowing it would be a miracle if she survived a fall at this speed -when to her utter shock, the horse seemed to sense her fall and began to slow.

She reached back out, grasping at the reins in alarm, feeling her legs spasm underneath her and her left foot slip out from the stirrup but just as she toppled sideways, the horse sidestepped, righting her slightly, trying to keep her one his back. She didn't think- she just stretched at, clutching for his mane.

He screamed ruthlessly when her fingers found the locks, tossing his head back in affronted shock. He came to a sudden stop, rearing slightly and she felt herself slide off his haunches, topping head over heels to the frozen forest ground.

The dress broke her fall, the volumes of the skirt cushioning her back, coming up around her face and smothering her but just managing to protect her head from the impact. All the air burst from her lungs and she coughed violently, pulling her arms around herself and trying to bite back the sobs.

The horse stomped around her for a moment, eyes rolling and froth bubbling from his lips. She glanced up, rolling out from under his feet as he reared up again, trying to pin her underneath his giant hooves. She barely managed to roll over a slight indentation in the ground, looking up and finding the horse's bared teeth were pointed fangs, the reins hanging uselessly around his neck- a bit nowhere in sight. With a final unearthly scream, the horse turned and raced off, picking up speed without his rider, heading on the same course as before.

Curled up on the ground, she tucked her frozen legs underneath her, rubbing desperately at her bare feet to restart circulation, tears streaming freely, and burning treks down her wind burnt face.

"The hell," she cried, hiccupping violently. She put her head back down on the ground, still trying to get feeling back in her feet. "The hell kind of horse- Oh Jesus, what the hell were you thinking, you stupid idiotic-"

And then she heard it: a loud neighing and a voice shouting roughly in response, the sounds floating over to her in the still night air.

Lacey forced herself to sit up, gulping in deep breaths, which was excruciating as her throat was on fire. She turned towards the closest gap of trees, seeing a sort of path leading up the closest hill.

_The horse had gone that direction, hadn't it?_ She wondered, standing awkwardly, feeling the sharp bite of the cold ground on her soles. She was shaking uncontrollably, her arms trembling as she wrapped them around her torso.

She managed to stand, a gust of wind encasing her in its bite and causing her to curl her shoulders down, trying to stay warm. She limped towards the nearest gap in the trees, biting her lip and trying to hold back sobs whenever she stepped on a stone or a twig. Staggering onto the trail, she kept her eyes down, trying to see in the darkness but with no moon she was failing miserably.

She thought of a six year old boy alone in the woods, wandering for hours in the winter sunlight, alone and scared and she felt a ruthless urge to laugh when she suddenly stopped feeling bad for the lost child but jealous of his good luck. At least he had shoes and a coat, sun overhead and no demonic horses trying to kill him.

_Just forget about the stupid horse,_ she berated herself, stumbling on her numb toes, _no one is going to have any sympathy for you getting on some rabid horse with no idea what you were doing-_

Just as she felt her feet start to scream back to life in protest at her determined movement, she stepped heavily on a sharp stone, feeling it cut deep into the pad beneath her toes.

Curse words bubbled to her lips and she bit down hard on her lip, bouncing up and down on the cold ground in agony. She managed to stumble over to a log nearby and sat gingerly, thighs tight and stretching uncomfortably as she lowered herself.

She took in a deep breath, pain radiating all over her but none as painful as the sharp agony pulsing upwards from the sole of her foot. Pulling up her dress, noticing it was tattered, stained and well beyond any dry cleaner's help, Lacey peered down at her foot the best she could in the dark. Blood was running freely, a dark gray stone sticking out from the ball of her foot. After a moment of contemplation, she looked up and around her in the darkness before reaching down, holding her breath and pulling.

More curse words peppered the air as Lacey inventively used every major four letter word she could think of with adjectives, nouns and a few choice adverbs thrown in for variety. As the sudden burst of stars in her vision started to fade away, she inhaled a shaky breath, flipping down her dress again over her torn limbs. Her toes were like ice, blood warm for a moment before cooling rapidly in the freezing air. Her legs were scratched from her ride and her thighs were protesting all movement, making her rocking a jerky static motion.

Taking in deep breaths amid her muted gasps of pain, Lacey wanted nothing more than to curl up in the path and wait for someone to rescue her .Surely Graham would notice her missing on his return from his fool's mission to town?

But she knew better. She was barefoot, had no coat and was in all likelihood freezing to death. She recalled hypothermia was supposed to feel like falling asleep. And amidst all the pain and fear, she had the oddest thought that at the moment that might be the best thing.

_But dying in a ball gown in the middle of a forest just doesn't make sense;_ a small voice seemed to whine. She tried to silence it, pulling her arms around her core tighter and burrowing into the folds of her gown, trying to think of them like a comforter.

_Really_, she thought, trying to ignore the pain_, are you just going to give up like this? On your first assignment? You want to be that footnote in the Looking Glass? _Young Woman dies of exposure in the woods dressed as a princess? _You going to go out like that?_

Lacey blinked her eyes open, shivering miserably, and sniffling- her nose running like a faucet in the cold and her shakes becoming uncontrollable. She turned back around the way she had come, they had been galloping for what had to be miles, it had been just after four when Graham rode off and she had-

She looked down at her foot again, noticing her night vision was improving because she could see it more clearly-

She glanced up at the sky, noticing stars starting to fade out. She rolled to her knees, breathing heavily, feeling her ribs ache with the cold air in her lungs when she heard a voice again, an irritated carrying voice but the words were blurred and barely understandable. The tone however was all too familiar

"Emma?" She croaked but the wind whipped it back into her throat and she coughed roughly, shivering. She raised herself up on her knees a little higher, gathering her last bits of strength and choking back a sob, screaming out," EMMA" her voice breaking on the last syllable, causing her to fall back down on her side, crying weakly.

_What are you thinking_, she mentally railed at herself. _Like Emma's out here in the middle of the woods- _

"Who's there?" The wind seemed to reply, the soft syllables teasing the shell of her ear before disappearing entirely. She struggled to sit upright, clutching her arms.

"Emma?" she shouted back, forgetting not to hope. She stumbled to her feet, wincing roughly as her cut and battered feet made contact with the ground again. Hope was giving her the unrealized strength to endure it as she pitched forward,

"Belle!" The voice came back, incredulous. "Is that you?"

"Emma!" Lacey laughed fitfully, pushing forward up the hill, her feet slicing on the rocks and twigs but she managed to clear the hill, collapsing onto her knees in a clear field, the trail disappearing ahead of her towards the center.

But all Lacey could see was the tall blonde standing just ahead of her, staring at her in disbelief.

"You're here!" Lacey laughed manically, tears streaming down her face. "You're actually really here!"

"God, Belle," Emma came running towards her, skidding down on to her knees in front of her and wrapping her in her arms. "What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for - Graham went-"

"I told him to stay out of it, "Emma cursed, turning back to face the field, rubbing Lacey's arms in a circular motion, trying to get circulation back. "Why aren't you at the Inn with everyone else?"

"Worried about you," Lacey lied, burying her head in her friend's chest. Dizzy at the unheard of luck of finding someone, clutching at her for warmth. "Saw you on the horse and-"

"I wasn't on a horse," Emma went to stand, focusing on something Lacey couldn't see but Lacey clutched at her friend, refusing to let her go. Emma shook herself out of the large black jacket she was wearing, wrapping it tightly around her friend.

"Saw you!" Lacey insisted, shaking her head, crying pitifully. The warmth of the coat was almost painful after the hours of cold but she burrowed into it. "Graham went after you but then I heard -"

"Belle, Belle honey," Emma soothed, taking her face in her hands and looking at her, forcing her to concentrate. "It wasn't me. I promise- I'm fine."

"Why are you-," Lacey hiccuped, actually really looking at her friend finally. "Why are you dressed like a pirate?"

Emma shook her head in exasperated incredulity, looking back over her shoulder. "Only you would ask something so pointless-"

Lacey ignored Emma's commentary as she took in her outfit. Emma had forsaken her usual leather red leather jacket and tight jeans for form fitting black leather pants, rough black riding boots going past her knees and a beige cotton blouse, billowing out in the sleeves but fitted in the cuffs, covered with a black vest ties open and dipping down. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and her face was shiny red with the cold, lips chapped unpleasantly and currently pursed in a frown.

"Are you even listening to me?" Emma questioned, arms folded in front of her.

"How long have you been out here?" Lacey answered the question with her another, her journalism background kicking in as queries and concerns starting to build over her fear. "What- what are you even doing out here, Emma?"

"Nosy little thing, isn't she?" Chimed in an unfamiliar voice, surprising Lacey back into silence at the intrusion. Emma tensed before turning and standing abruptly. Lacey blinked over to where the voice came from, casting her eyes about in the darkness for the newcomer.

It was then she noticed the large two columns in the center of the clearing, a large circular wrought iron gate yawning open to the woods beyond. Lacey barely noted the intricate styling of the open gate but she heard Greg faintly in the back of her head, "_I walked around the columns for a bit…never realized I should be scared…"_

Emma was standing in front of her, between her and the pillars. It was starting to lighten, wee hours of the night bleeding into the early hours of the morning, stars vanishing from overhead.

"Regina, you know the laws," Emma was saying, her hand lowering to –

"Is that a sword?" Lacey asked folding over to sit side legged on the ground, leaning on her good foot to try and stand.

"Quiet, Belle," Emma whispered, motioning for her to stay down.

"Yes, do be quiet. You've been making enough racket in these woods all night," the voice replied, tone cruel and biting as the wind. "Help this and help that! Completely distracting for those of us who are trying to get any work done-"

"Leave her out of this, Regina," Emma growled. "Now, you know as well as I do that you have less than a few minutes to get back to the other side before you face the consequences."

"From you?" laughed the voice, and Emma turned sharply just as the form of a woman seemed to materialize from nowhere to their left. Lacey blinked in confusion before realizing her vision must be spotty from the tears. She rubbed at her face furiously trying to clear her vision.

"Staying in this land beyond the Solstice is forbidden," Emma was saying over her but Lacey was too focused on the newcomer. Greg had said his father had been talking to a woman, but this woman barely looked older than her early thirties. Her hair was raven black, pulled back in a high ponytail, braids wrapped around the base. Her skin was milk white, cheeks red in the cold and her lips painted a dark plum purple. She was wearing an all-black outfit just like-

"Graham," Lacey whispered, struggling to her feet.

Emma reached back to hold her behind her but Lacey shook her off, standing beside her friend. "What did you do with Graham?" she yelled, gulping in air, trying to get her breath back to normal. Her voice came out in a petulant feminine whine but she held herself upright, anger starting to warm her.

The woman looked at her, raising a lone eyebrow in reply, taking her in. Lacey felt a shiver, not of cold but of awareness, creep down her spine. The woman was looking through her, almost into her. She shook it off, turning to Emma who kept her gaze locked on the stranger.

"Graham was wearing that exact outfit tonight, down to the lame mask she's wearing as a headband," Lacey rattled off, pointing at the woman. Emma reached over slowly and lowered her arm, tense and alert.

"Is the little fake princess accusing me of something?" Came the response, the voice cutting like glass as Regina eyed her. Lacey ignored her, trying to form the words to inform Emma of her concern.

"Regina," Emma addressed her, stepping more squarely in front of Lacey. "You have no rights here past the sunrise, you should be going."

"Of course, I'm going," Regina replied, smiling like the cat who gotten into the cream. Her teeth were straight, gleaming white but her canines were sharp in her smile and it didn't reach her eyes. "But I had something in town to pick up before I left."

"Graham," Lacey said under her breath, Emma nodded tersely to signify she understood.

"Where is the Sheriff, Regina?" Emma asked, her hand firmly on the hilt that was protruding from her belt.

The woman's smile deepened, and with a lazy hand she waved to her left, towards the gate where a figure face down in the grass seemed to come into focus.

"Graham!" Lacey cried, unsure how she had missed him there when she had been looking at the gate. She raced around Emma, ignoring her friend's cry to wait and slid to her knees, feeling the dress protest and stretch under her as she fell to her colleague's side.

He was cold, dressed in his usual Sheriff uniform, his face devoid of any color but he was still breathing in small shallow puffs of air.

"He's alive," she shouted over her shoulder. He groaned in response, rolling his eyes feebly beneath his eyelids. She heard Emma slowly walking towards them, glancing up to see Emma keeping a careful eye on the stranger who was advancing towards the gate at the same rate as Emma.

"What did you do, Regina?" Emma asked, alarm clouding her voice. Lacey checked Graham's breathing, it was slow but normal. She went to check his heartbeat, putting her head over his chest to make sure he didn't go into some kind of arrest but she paused, confused.

"His breathing's fine," She related to Emma, now standing over them again, facing Regina still. "But his heart beat is really slow. I can barely hear it."

"Oh, you mean this?" Regina asked coyly. Lacey looked up to find her holding a glowing red-

"Is that a heart?" She managed to choke out, eyes locked on the beating apparatus in Regina's clawed grip. The other woman was no longer smiling but smirking, her entire face unperturbed.

"Belle," Emma muttered through clenched teeth. "Do. not. move."

"Now, what is that pesky little law about the Guardian of the Gate?" Regina was asking aloud. The question was obviously rhetorical as Emma made no move to answer. Lacey was focusing on Graham, trying to ignore the beating heart in her peripheral vision. She felt sick, the cold no longer cutting her now that fear and disgust were rolling in her stomach.

"Graham," she whispered. "Get up Graham, please get up."

"Oh you want him to get up?" Regina interrupted. Lacey cast her eyes towards her, the sharp hearing alarming her. "Why didn't you say so?"

And then with a jerking motion, Graham's eyes flew open as he wrenched himself off the ground, nearly toppling Lacey over in his sudden momentum.

Emma whirled to her left, her back to the gate now, grasping Lacey's arm and wrenching her behind her again.

She pulled the sword out, the scabbard ringing as the metals scraped against it. Lacey felt her eyes slide down the gleaming metal blade, down to the ornate bejeweled handle where Emma's small fist was wrapped tightly around the hilt, her other hand balanced to her side. In the twilight, the broad sword seemed to gleam sickly in the heart's unnatural light.

"Emma," Lacey said slowly, eyes fixed on the sword's sharp blade. "I'm going to ask again- why do you have a sword exactly?"

Graham was staring at the two of them, breathing heavily and clutching at his chest.

"Graham," Emma whispered, tears in her eyes. Her voice was shaking, but the sword stayed pointed between Regina and Graham, perfectly still in her grip. "Graham, I'm so sorry."

Graham looked pained, eyes fixed on Emma.

"I thought it was you," he managed, trying to assure Emma of something. Lacey watched, a silent witness, unable to look away from his pained face. "I thought she was you-"

"Regina, please," Emma pleaded, eyes flicking to Regina. "What are you trying to prove here?"

"I'm not trying to prove anything," Regina teased. Stepping closer to the gate, she looked down at the beating heart in her hand. "A guardian must stand to protect the Realm of the Believers against the Fae. Isn't that how it goes, Emma dear?"

Emma didn't reply, her lips drawn tight in a bloodless line. Lacey felt her shaking pick up again, wrapping Emma's black jacket more firmly around her.

"Graham, what's-"Lacey started but Emma silenced her, raising her free hand to stop her. Lacey tried again but Emma cut her off.

"Belle, just shut up for a second!" Emma yelled, causing Regina to laugh in delight.

"This is what you protect!" She chortled, looking past Emma to Lacey. She tried not to hunch her shoulders under the glare, that uncomfortable feeling of power and darkness climbing up her spine again.

"Weaklings and cowards. This one almost got carried off by one of the Kelpies that run loose in these woods, managed to fall off just in time to avoid being drowned in the river bed."

Lacey's knuckles tightened into white knots in her pockets, bile rising in her throat. The flash of fangs and foam rising to her eyes, the sick knowledge that it wasn't really a horse clouded by her fear.

"But you people," Regina was continuing. "You insist on protecting the ignorant natives of this land. So, fine. If I can't have it the way I want it, I'll just make sure it works to my advantage. Say goodbye to your man."

"Regina, no!" Emma screamed, lurching forward. Her sword at the ready, raising it for a clear strike but Regina was already crumbling the beating heart in her grip. Lacey tore her gaze away from the stomach-turning sight at the noise of Graham choking. She whirled towards him as he started to collapse to the ground with writhing limbs.

Lacey was at his side before he fell, catching him and lowering him to the ground. She called his name hoarsely, crying and sniffing, trying to shake him awake but his eyes were wide open, staring lifelessly in the sky.

She could hear Emma screaming, screaming "Coward! COWARD!" and cursing into the night but Regina was gone, and dawn was approaching.

Lacey turned, looking to call her friend to Graham's side, words sticking in her throat when her eyes fell on Regina standing nonchalantly, right past the gates, grinning madly and laughing. Standing over the corpse of her friend, laughing while Emma just stood there…

It was the laughing, Lacey thought later. It was the laughing at killing Graham that made her stumble to her feet, leave him behind and run full speed through the gates. It was all to stop her from laughing.

She felt herself rush past the columns, felt a sucking, whispering sensation like walking through a spider web before she suddenly was close enough to see Regina's eyes- cold and merciless, delighted at the sudden development.

She heard Emma screaming her name, yelling for her to come back but she was so close, so close to silencing the bitch that had just killed her friend- she was close enough to reach out and scratch her eyes out when suddenly Regina was gone.

Lacey's momentum carried her forward, through where Regina had just been standing. She tried to stumble to a stop, but fell forward, falling onto her hands and knees. She stayed there for a moment, tears dripping own her chin, before she pounded the ground in anger, only to feel it shift beneath her.

She was kneeling in sand, she realized numbly. Shifting it idly between her fingers, watching is swirl around her palms. She slowly raised her head, looking for where Regina had run off to - only to realize-

She was no longer in the field.

She was in the mountains, next to a dry lake bed, and she was suddenly warm.

She turned her head round, back towards the gate only to see it swinging shut, Emma rushing towards it, tripping and falling just short as it clanged shut.

"Em-Emma?" She stuttered, stumbling to her feet and rushing back towards the gate, staggering in the gravelly sand she found herself in.

The gate was no longer set in two columns, it was now in a standing rock shelf, the columns jutting out from the rocky wall, still brick but covered in flint and rock dust.

"Belle," Emma whispered, sitting on her haunches, fingers interlacing the curls and swirls of the intricately patterned gate.

Now that it was closed, Lacey could clearly see it as she neared it.

It was a landscape, trees twisting from one side to the other side, where other trees were stretching towards their counterparts, wavering more in the breeze. One had a moon curled low with snowflakes falling around its point and the other had a sun rising over the horizon, birds and flowers blooming underneath it.

It was beautiful, etched and stylized with a master hand, no rough edges or rusting points. The sharp points of the thorns on the rosebud prickled her fingers as she wrapped her fingers around the iron as well, falling down wearily to match where Emma was kneeling. The two women mirror images, their hands inches from touching.

"Emma…" Lacey whimpered, tears welling back in her eyes as panic started to overwhelm her. "What just happened? What- Where am I?"

"Belle," Emma was crying, her usual composed face blotchy and red. She was rubbing her cheeks with her sleeves, caking dirt and leaves into her hair. "Belle, I am so so sorry."

"Is he-"Lacey started, choking back the words, trying to see out of the gate. The field was starting to lighten, sun coming up on that side of the gate and she could see the dark form lying motionless behind Emma. When she felt a shift in the air around her, she turned realizing the sun behind her was beginning to set.

"He's dead," Emma was faltering, licking her lips and swallowing hard. "She knew- she knew if he was dead, I'd have to stay-"

"Emma," Lacey gasped, fighting back the panic, trying to focus on her friend. "Emma, please open the gate. I don't- I don't understand, I'm sorry, I'm trying I just can't-"

"Belle, listen to me," Emma managed, leaning her forehead against the gate. Lacey tried to reach out to take her friend's hands but it felt like a shadow, cool and not quite real. "You have to listen to me-"

"Emma, this is-"

"You're in Fae, Belle," Emma was saying, looking way from her back at the rising sun. "And I can't open the gate- "

"Emma, Emma please," Lacey was mumbling wildly, wiping away the tears that were starting to fall again.

Lacey raised her eyes to the darkening sky, noticing with a hint of horror that at the top of the circle's gate, she could no longer see the familiar dawn of Storybrooke. Instead dusk was falling and the Gate's background was turning to the rock of the shelf behind it.

"Belle, Belle listen to me," Emma was saying and she looked back at her friends, eye wide. "You have to do exactly what I say-"

"Well, for starters, she really should back away from that Gate unless she wants to become a part of it."

At the sudden intrusion, Lacey pressed herself closer to the gate, swinging around just as Emma let out a mirthless laugh.

"Oh, perfect. You would be here!"

"Always glad to be of service," came the eerily high pitched voice, and Lacey found herself kneeling under a small framed man, hooded in a large cape, his entire being shrouded by the dark material.

"Emma," she whispered, twisting her fingers more firmly around the iron curls of the closest tree. "What do I do?"

"I already told you _that_!" The stranger crackled, stepping a bit away, cocking his caped head to the side. "And yet you seem to like the idea of becoming a piece of the scenery. Too bad. Princesses are in short supply these days."

Emma whispered softly, right in her ear, "Belle, do you trust me?"

Lacey bit her lip, keeping an eye on the stranger who was standing completely still, unseen eyes fixed on them.

"If you trust me, you have to go along with I say, okay?" Emma was whispering quickly, a sense of urgency underlining her words. "So, do –you- trust -me?"

"Yes…" Lacey answered slowly, because she did. She had no idea where she was, what had happened to Graham or why any of this was happening but she trusted Emma. Despite everything she didn't know, she trusted the woman who was still with her, even when she was hallucinating wildly.

"You like making deals, Imp," Emma said, standing. Lacey looked up at her, backing up closer to the Gate so it pressed into her spine. "Make a deal with me."

"_Oh_?" the now named Imp asked, giggling. "And what would that be?"

"Your word to protect this woman from all harm for the year of the Moon and to return her to this Gate as the year of the Sun begins."

The cloaked figure laughed riotously, swishing his coat about his knees in merriment.

Lacey couldn't see anything inside the cloak, not clothes or skin, not even the gleam of a tooth or an eye. The idea of facing Regina again seemed a better prospect than trusting her life to him but Emma's confidence silenced her.

"Emma," she interrupted, pulling herself to her feet. She belatedly realized Emma's jacket was dirty and torn, the ball gown ripped and frayed, dirty with grass stains and mud, horse hair clinging to it in random patches. "I don't think going anywhere with this man is a good idea."

"Man!" The cloaked figure yelped in merriment. "My, my, you friend really doesn't know much about our way of doing things, does she?"

"Imp," Emma commanded, and Lacey almost twisted to look at her friend in surprise. Emma's voice was ringing with unquestionable authority now, tears and any trace of fear gone from it. "Do we have a deal?"

"And what do I get in return for this protection?" The Imp asked, sliding closer to the Gate. Lacey faltered off to the side, noticing the dusk shadows edging deeper along the wall. The two were standing still, despite the Gate starting to fade. Emma had moved back and released her grip on the gate.

"You already know what you want or you would have refused the deal," Emma stated imperially, chin thrust out defiantly. "Name your price."

"Well, then," the figure retorted, bouncing on his heels. "I want access to the Realm of the Believers."

"You know I can't-"Emma started but he cut her off with a snarl.

"Do you want me to leave her defenseless here? She has no idea what this land is- she'll be dead before dawn. Now, ask yourself Princess," he whispered leaning in towards the gate. "Do you want to lose another friend this day?"

Emma stared down at him, her jaw tight and eyes sparkling. Her forehead disappeared as the sun started to rise higher, and she ducked down, looking over at Lacey as she spoke.

"As Guardian of the Gate, you have my word. Access to the Realm of the Believers for one year's time but after that-"

"A year's all I need, dearie," he giggled. "And if I don't return her safe and sound, our deal will be void. So, I suppose we will see you in a year, Princess. Do try not to get too much more attached to the natives- why this is positively embarrassing for you. What _would_ your parents say?'

Just then, clouds parted overhead behind Emma and she disappeared entirely, her angry face opening to retort was the last thing Lacey saw before her new guardian turned to her, cloak swirling around his ankles.

"Well, then dearie," he murmured. "We should be going."

He reached one hand out, scaled and glowing in the twilight, green and gold, clawed fingernails like alligator's claws.

Lacey felt the sudden urge to scramble backwards, to run as far as she could from the beast standing before her. But she was frozen, immobile in her terror.

"You don't talk much, do you?" He sniggered, tossing his hood back.

His eyes were large globes of yellow molten pupils like reptiles. His long curly gray hair fell in waves about his shoulders, framing his green scaled face, teeth rotten and sharp like the komodo dragons she had seen at the zoo with their poisonous bite.

He was watching her, she realized suddenly, waiting for her to scream. His golden yellow eyes gleamed sickly in the dusk's fade, challenging her to break. She bit down hard on the impulse, drawing herself straight against the rock shelf, keeping her eyes locked on his face. Unblinking, she entered into the staring contest with the creature before her.

"Lovely," he snapped, irritated at her failure to react. "A fake princess with spirit. Just what I was missing."

And then he snapped his fingers and her world disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**So, after sticking with Lacey for three chapters- on the fourth one I give you Regina, Fae, and the Imp- be honest was it too much too fast? Everyone still holding on to their socks? **

**But I did take away Graham- I hope too many of you didn't curse me for that but as much as I hated his death, I think it was one of the best oh shit moments OuaT gave us. I wanted to honor that with a good death. **

_**9aza**_**\- I have never seen Sleepy Hollow the TV show but I did love getting to invoke that creepy New England feeling of seeing a horsed rider all misty and cloaked. One of those great American legends. I really, really hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

_**YukaTheDemon1 –**_** Hopefully this answered some of your questions! Or maybe hinted more than answered. But now that she is firmly out of her world, we will learn a little more about her world by learning about the world she now finds herself in. **

**And big welcome to Phoebe Holly for joining the party!**

**Once again- no beta. See an error, earn a shout out/ my internal gratitude by PMing me and letting me know. **

**Big thanks to everyone who is reading and following the story! **


	5. Chapter 5

Coughing fitfully amidst all the chalky fumes that had suddenly surrounded her, Lacey raised her hand in an instinctive motion, batting ineffectively as she tried to distill the tendrils of smoke. As the smoke cleared, it revealed her companion. She slowly lowered her hand, clearing her throat with a guilty cough.

The Imp was standing exactly where he had been seconds ago, but –

Lacey tilted her head back in surprise, taking a step forward in uncertainty before stopping and turning to face the creature, who was fussing with the pockets of his hooded cloak and ignoring her. Finding some sort of courage in her rapidly growing indignation, she demanded, "What the hell was that?"

The lake bed and mountains were gone. Inexplicably, they were now standing in a large hall of some sort- large gray stones hewn together in jointed jagged lines, rough stones hung with tapestries and weaponry and decorated with what appeared to be heads of other … creatures.

Looking away from the gaping mouth of what looked to be the distant cousin of a buffalo, she raised her eyes to the ceiling. High above her the rafters were lost in shadows. A few chandeliers hung from the depths but they were unlit, iron rusted and dripping with chains. The only light was coming in from the curtained windows that lined the hall.

She turned slowly, taking in the large wooden door, drawbridge style that seemed twice her height and four times her width but it seemed stuck, immobile- probably hadn't been used in years…

Her gaze fell back down, tracing the bare stone walls, rough and uneven but jointed together in a pattern that traced the length of the whole hall. She avoided the other decorations, eyes skipping around her host in a denial of his presence. Her mouth was open, she was horrified to find, snapping it shut quickly as she noted the place had the same odd musky air that she associated with museums.

She finally let her eyes fall where they were being drawn - on him- it- whatever.

The thing in question or The Imp as Emma had referred to him was leaning against the wall, his cloak opened in the warmth of the hall, now displaying more of his odd ensemble- all scaled and dyed dark rich colors - but his eyes were locked on her, that self-satisfied grin back on his face. "Is this- place some kind of- castle?" She asked in disbelief.

"How astute of you," he replied, pushing off from the wall and bowing low before her, hair falling in a curtain around his snake like face. "Welcome to my humble home."

She took a shaky step back away from him, feeling a faintness overcoming her accompanied with a shaky feeling like her knees were about to buckle from underneath her. She drew in a short, shaky breath, the noise of it echoing along the stone floors and walls, disappearing into the inky shadows at the end of the hall. "How did-"She started but closed her eyes and shook her head fitfully. "No, I don't want to know- "

"Is this the part where you ask if you're dreaming?" He asked, picking himself up from his bow. He had a slight sneer on his face. He leaned his head towards her, cocking it to the side to emphasize his point. "Because, you're going to have a bit of a wake-up call sooner or later." He sang out, carefully pronouncing each word and throwing it at her like a knife.

The corset is starting to cut off the oxygen to her brain, Lacey rationed, raising her hand to her stomach. She kept her face neutral as best she could, raising her eyes to look over him, around him, anywhere but at him. Her eyes were finally focusing in the gloom allowing her to see the hall wasn't as deep as it had previously appeared to be. A large staircase went up, spiraling to a second level which loomed just out of her sight. A smaller staircase to the right of her seemed to go straight down in the depths of the hall.

"You actually live here?" Lacey questioned, purposefully letting her disdain color her words.

The damp and the rot of it was starting to invade her bones. Her entire body was sore and aching and her head felt like it had been caught in a vise. The smoke had caused her eyes to water and now they itched fiercely. Plus, the damn dress was in tatters around her and goddamn it, she was scared. She was scared horribly and all she wanted to do was cry. But Lacey resisted the urge, wrapping her sarcasm around her like a blanket.

"How… quaint."

He narrowed his eyes at her, sweeping himself upright. He made sharp, quick movements, she noted, almost reptilian but… deliberate, almost stylized.

"How kind of you to notice," he mocked, twisting his hand in a circular motion before offering it out to her like a courtier. "Shall I give you the grand tour?"

"How about you go to-"

But Lacey never got to finish that sentence. With a snap of his clawed fingers, she found the purple smoke encircling her once again. She swatted at it ineffectively, but instead of dissipating, it grew thicker around her, pressing her down. It seemed to have a will of its own, alive and pulsing. She threw her arm over her head as it surged towards her face, angry and darkening.

She felt the now familiar sickening dizziness. She fell down into a kneeling position, eyes clenched shut against the wall of magic. Her legs clenched up in spasms at her sudden movement and she opened her mouth to cry out but smoke filled her lungs before she could close her lips against it.

But just as suddenly as it had struck, it cleared. She was breathing heavily, shoulders shaking from the chill of the air and the fear that was beating wildly, madly, frantically in her chest.

Blinking, she lowered her arm slowly, chest heaving despite the corset's best efforts to keep it still. "Oh for fuck's sake-"she coughed, slowly rising to her shredded feet, looking around in disbelief. "Enough with the smoke trick!"

She was now in a smaller chamber, same walls but the floor was rougher on her bleeding soles. It was cold to the touch which was a slight relief from the throbbing warmth that was radiating from her soles upwards. It was chillier down here so she wrapped her jacket around her more tightly, seeing small puffs of air emerge from her raw lips into the stillness.

She slowly backed up, eyes taking in the small chamber. It was merely a step or two before her knees hit a rough edge and she found herself falling down into a seat, hard. She was sitting on a stone slab with a ratty burlap fabric folded along the bottom. Two candles were burning next to a large solid wood door with a small oval at the top where bars crisscrossed to form a small grid work. The room was about the size of her first dorm room, low ceiling and heavy walls with no window.

She slowly moved her head over the whole room again. She felt a slight burst of manic laughter escape her before she quenched it down.

She was in a dungeon.

Chains were lying lovingly by the door, open and menacing, with patches of rust in certain key areas. She wrenched her gaze from them to the nearest item- a silver platter bowl looking item which she puzzled over for a minute before she recognized it from her old days covering the heath section. She confirmed her fear when she did another look around the room, confirming a toilet was indeed missing from her quarters. She stared back at the thing for a moment. "Nope," she muttered wildly, shaking her head. "No, this is not happening-"

"Liking your new room, are we?"

"You-" She seethed, popping up and rushing towards the door where his face had appeared. He watched her approach, eyes following on her odd limping. She felt a rush of fury at his the odd frown that crossed his face. She wanted to show nothing akin to weakness to this creature. "You let me out this minute-"

"But I promised to keep you safe!" He teased. His eyes were hard like diamonds, flashing yellow at her in the candlelight. "And I can promise you, you'll be perfectly safe here."

He disappeared from her with another of his sharp, pinched laughs. Her fingers clutched at the iron bars where he had been moments ago. "Wait!" She called, frantically trying to peer out into the hallway. "You can't just leave me like this!"

But it seemed he could, she soon found out. After a few moments of standing in agony on her toes, she gave up. Exhaustion pulled her back to the slab of stone which she assumed was her bed, curling up with Emma's jacket wrapped tight around her. It had the familiar smell of the forest and Emma's perfume. She twisted her nose away from it angrily, irritation and fear mingling with the memories. She managed to contort the burlap blanket into a pillow of sorts, pummeling it ineffectively before giving up and lying back down.

She stared out across the room, curling into a fetal position and trying not to focus the throbbing pain in her left foot where the stone had punctured through the skin or the scratches all over her legs and arms. She twitched her left leg to get comfortable and the pain that shot through her made her whimper miserably into the coat's label.

Cold, afraid and losing herself in the persistent pain, Lacey felt herself slip off into an uneasy sleep. She could only hope that when she woke up she would be back in her bed in the city, back to being Lacey French.

"Wake up sleepy head!"

Lacey's eyes shot open, pushing herself backwards from the intrusion- instantly cracking her head on a solid stone wall behind her.

"Christ," she yelped, reaching up to touch the back of her head. She peeped one eye open angrily to find the smug little leprechaun who was holding her hostage sitting primly in a wooden chair by her bed. "Do you have a death wish?" She growled, closing her eyes and drawing her feet up to her chest.

"Possibly," he answered with a shoulder wiggle. He was smiling his horrid toothy grin again. She looked away from him towards her freezing toes, only to realize-

"My feet are-"

"Healed, yes." He splayed his hands out before him, palms up in a mockery of supplication. "I noticed blood on my floors." He waggled a finger at her in disapproval. "I'm sure you didn't mean to bleed all over the place. That's rude you know."

She kept her eyes on him now, silent and unresponsive. She fought back the urge to grab her feet and rub warmth into them, almost dizzy with relief to be free of the pain. Her brain whirled as Lacey tried to use common sense to apply to this situation. When it failed her, she was left staring back at a scaled mythical magical beast wearing a torn ball gown and holding in a full bladder.

He was watching her. Despite his air of unconcern, he was waiting for her to react. Lacey had never been very good at giving people what they wanted. Why start now?

"How thoughtless of me" she said robotically. She knew if she checked her arms and legs they too would be healed and the saddle soreness had receded as well. The only lingering discomfort was a slight burning in her throat. She readjusted slightly on the hard surface of the bed. His eyes narrowing slightly at her movement. She met his gaze with a sarcastic grin," Being too injured and scared to be grateful when you're being such an attentive jailer."

He didn't say anything in return. He gave another small giggle before standing abruptly. "As lovely as this has been," he snipped, striding back towards the open door. "I have things to do, people to kill, monsters to unleash."

And he slammed the door shut just as she scooted towards the edge of the bench, placing her feet on the cold ground.

"Hold on!" She cried, almost tripping over her skirts to get to the door. But he was already gone.

"Damnit."

She turned back to the room, dimly noting the candles were still burning at the same height as the night before. She watched them wavering in the air for a moment before making her way back to the bed. She plopped down on it, letting her face fall into her hands.

She had no earthly idea what to do, she realized stricken. She was in some kind of story tale nightmare, trapped in a monster's dungeon. Tears blurred her vision again but she rubbed her eyes roughly, pushing them back.

She leaned back, lying back down on the hard stone cot, staring up into the ceiling. For a moment, she traced patterns in the stonework, trying to calm her ragged breathing.

When she felt her heart rate start to level out, she began to think more clearly. She was under the protection of a – well he laughed at being called a man, she remembered. So, she was under the protection of a beast with magical abilities and an alarming penchant for giggling.

The call of nature intensified. The slight fuzziness in her mouth accentuated the fact she had been drinking champagne the night before her current situation. She assumed the adrenaline in her system had prevented a hangover; either that or the magical healing of her "host" had taken care of it. She was begrudgingly grateful as she doubted they had coffee in this world. She turned her head to the side, matted hair spilling out around her head as she stared balefully at the chamber pot.

Nope, she decided, turning her back on it, curling back up on her side. Not going to happen.

Not even an hour later, Lacey had the unique experience of trying to pee in a ball gown into a chamber pot. There was a lot of cursing, some unintentional spillage and a really embarrassing moment where she thought she heard The Imp behind her.

Turning her nose up at what the knowledge of what the room was going to smell like here in a minute, she returned to the bed. She almost sat down on a plate of food that had appeared there in the interim she had been up. A silver goblet sat next to the breakfast offering, clear water gleaming at her in the reflection of the candles.

For a moment, she wavered between the sudden hunger in her gut and the odd fear of The Imp. For all she knew, she could eat the food and sleep for the whole year...

Seating herself back on her bed and now table, she ate quickly. The bread was soft and warm, delicious with a sweet berry jam to dip it in. A hardboiled egg finished the meal but she was forced to use her fingers as there had been no utensils.

Finishing the last bite of the bread, she swirled her finger in the jam and bread crumbles, licking her finger before putting down the plate. As she took another sip of the cold water from the goblet, she absently wiped her fingers on the edge of Emma's coat, offering a quick apology in her head even though it was obvious the coat was long past ruined at this point.

Shifting to find a more comfortable position on the stone, she winced as her corset bit into her stomach. She feebly reached behind her to try and undo the lacing of the gown but her muscles protested the stretch and she gave up with a grumble. Now properly fed and awake, Lacey could only whimsically think on pajama pants and sweatshirts as she lay down, trying to get comfortable.

Just as she flipped on to her other side, carefully lowering the goblet to the floor beneath her, she felt a hard circular object press sharply into her lower thigh. She winced as she sat back up, fishing in the many pockets of Emma's odd coat to find the offending item before drawing out a –

A tiara.

Golden and delicate, it held a few shining rubies in its branched tendrils but overall, it was very simple. She turned it over a few times in her hands, the weight of the gold and stones as well as the feel and shine all adding up to the obvious conclusion of it being a very real and very expensive piece of jewelry to be carrying in one's pocket.

Frowning at it, Lacey sat upright a little more and held it up to the candles burning in the wall socket over the stone slab. It glinted at her in a wink of light, the dark rubies swallowing up the light in one facet before shining merrily in the next. She turned it over a few times in her hands, puzzling over why Emma had been carrying an actual tiara in her coat pocket when she had been dressed like a pirate-

Wait- her memory nagged at her. Something about The Imp calling Emma… princess? She had assumed he was being ironic but what if-

"Hey!" Lacey shouted out into the silence of her quarters. "Hey!" The shouting brought on a sudden fit of coughing. Lacey stopped for a moment to catch her breath, covering her mouth with her hand as she tried to get control of her breathing back.

Unsurprisingly yet infuriatingly, there was not a response. This left Lacey shifting back into to a sitting position, bare feet touching the floor. Moments passed as she strained to hear any kind of shuffle or footstep, just in case but silence echoed down on her ears and she was left sitting and staring at the door.

Gathering in another deep breath, she shouted, "Hello?! Anyone home?" Silence was her only response. She rubbed her hands together, squaring her spine and licking her lips. If he planned to ignore her, he was in for a rude surprise.

Lacey spent the next couple of days in constant noise. Screaming, talking out loud, even banging the (thankfully self-emptying) chamber pot against the iron on the door for a solid bit until her arms got too tired. But nothing.

Everyday, her food was delivered three times a day. The plate disappeared when she turned her back on it but the goblet stayed full of water, no matter how much she drank.

(It was a rough afternoon the day she kept drinking it, trying to find the bottom… she and the chamber pot had been rather chummy that day.)

It wasn't until almost a week after her arrival at Casa de Crazy when she was hoarsely croaking the theme song from Titanic when a loud snarl interrupted her.

"What is it that you think you are doing!" The Imp raged, throwing open the door and striding in. She stopped, sitting up quickly to face him, fingers tightening around the tiara in her pocket, ignoring the painful, raw scratching at the back of her throat. "Five days of this incessant NOISE."

"Six days, but who's counting?" She shot back, standing. She hitched the falling sleeve of her gown back onto her arm, the lacing having come undone a few days ago and now only held on her grip. He, on the other hand, was in a more casual outfit than his previous visit. He had on a simple white over shirt, neck strings untied and showing his golden skin stretched tight over his collar bones with dark black breeches which showed him to be a more slender build than she had previously realized. She grinned at this discovery, catching his eye in her sudden amusement. His face was pointed in anger. At her grin, it twisted into a snarling grimace, teeth black and pointed as he bared them at her. She found herself taunting him, "You can't just leave me down here for a year!"

"I can do what I like, dearie," he ground out. "Or haven't you figured that out yet?"

"I'm going insane stuck down here!" She whined, sounding like a petulant toddler throwing a temper tantrum. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth before she screamed in frustration, chewing on it fitfully. She released a slow breath before meeting his eye again and stating calmly, "I'm bored. Can't I-"

Her jailor barked a laugh at her, but it was deep and growling not like his usual infantile giggles. "How you can be bored with the amount of noise you are making is beyond my understanding," he snapped. "Now be quiet or I'll make you."

"You wouldn't-" She started but he grinned wickedly, flicking his hand outwards toward her. She found herself mouthing the rest of that sentence, silence falling from her lips. She frowned, trying again, reaching up to her throat to massage the muscles there. He was grinning gleefully now, eyes crinkling in nasty delight.

"Oh, wouldn't I?"

Outrage, Lacey balled her hands into fists, before picking up the goblet beside her and throwing it at him. He disappeared in a cloud of that noxious purple smoke. His laughter ringing behind him as the goblet sailed through the air and broke in half against the far wall, water trickling out of it like a leaky hose.

She stood there, proud and tall for another moment before she broke into tears. Silent angry sobs wracked her body as she curled up on her side, pulling Emma's borrowed coat even more tightly around her. It no longer smelled of Storybrooke and winter or Emma's shampoo. Now, it smelled of the various foods she had spilled on it, stale body odor and sweat.

Another five days passed in forced silence.

A new goblet arrived with the next meal, a heavier tankard this time with stylized coat of arms on the front which she traced with her fingers. She tried to talk to herself for the first few days but after a while gave up. She told herself stories in her head, wrote articles in her mind, tried mediation and slept as much as she could to push back the growing fear that she was dead or worse insane. Trapped in her own mind while her body lay out in the elements of the Maine wilderness. Anything but this.

For exercise, she roamed the four corners of her small room, occasionally banging things when she got frustrated at her muteness but she stopped this behavior when she couldn't find her chamber pot one morning. It appeared back later that day but she too nervous to try bang it against anything again for fear of it being taken away for good. She found if she moved too much she would stat coughing again, the silent ones were even worse than the noisy ones from before and she stopped getting up from the slab, tracing patterns in the ceiling and eating when it appeared.

Old Stockholm syndrome stories and symptoms popped up in her mind's ramblings occasionally. She promised herself if The Imp ever returned her voice, she wouldn't thank him for it.

Her cough worsened.

Her ribs ached with it, a deep racking cough that twisted her insides and made her throat burn. But still-it was silent.

On the sixth morning of her muteness, she found herself startled awake, coughing and retching loudly. She sucked in large gasps of air, laughing hoarsely when she realized she could hear it.

Her voice was back.

"You absolute-" She began to shout, crowing hoarsely but another coughing fit interrupted her. She was too busy trying to avoid coughing up her lungs to finish the sentence.

"One would think you may have learned your lesson," Came the familiar voice from just outside the room. "But that would be hoping too much I see."

"Never was a quick learner," Lacey muttered savagely, ignoring him.

She heard the door swing open and she opened a blearily eye at him. "Don't wait for an invitation," she grumbled, starting to sit up.

"You're ill," he muttered distastefully. He positioned his chair to face her bed, peering at her from under his brow.

"Apparently," she mumbled, wiping the dampness from her forehead. "Might have been the hours in the freezing cold the other night or maybe from the dampness down here- can't pick my favorite option so-"

He wordlessly waved a hand with a quick flick of his wrist, and a bottle appeared- green liquid glowing in it, bubbles popping in the depths.

"Drink this," he said, handing it out to her. She stared for a moment, jaw tight. But another coughing fit bent her in two and when she came up for air, he was still there, waiting. "Goodness," he complained. "If I had known how hard it would be to keep one of you alive I would have just told her royal high and mighty to forget it. If I had wanted to kill you, you'd be dead by now, so stop glaring at me and drink."

After a moment of silent mediation, she wordlessly swiped it from his grasp. She paused to glare at him for good measure before she downed it. Her throat instantly felt better. Her stomach unclenched from its spasms and her airways cleared. She released a sigh, feeling a small bit of drowsy comfort overtaking her. She capped the bottle and handed it back to him, refusing to look him in the eye.

He nodded, pocketing the vial again. He sat there, still as a statue while his frame radiated a kind of energy that made her feel uncomfortable. He was in his usual leather outfit today, a darker green than usual with shoulder pads with spikes on the arms and shoulders. It should have looked ridiculous but instead it looked formidable, threatening.

She slowly raised her hand over her mouth, aware of her rank breath and disgusting teeth in the face of his own, shielding it with her palm before asking, "Why do you call her that?"

He squinted at her, obvious confusion on his features.

"Emma, I mean," she clarified, holding her hand carefully in place as she scooted back from him to lean against the wall. She drew her feet underneath her tattered skirt, the chill of the room deepening with his presence.

"Whatever are you doing?" He inquired, eyes on her hand.

She swallowed, rasping her tongue over her coated teeth. "I asked you first," she pointed out, but it lacked a certain authority with her hand hovering waveringly over her lips. She frowned at him, lowering it slightly to wait for his response.

He merely raised an eyebrow and she moved it back up to admit, "I haven't brushed my teeth in over a week- my mouth tastes like garbage and my breath could stun an elephant."

"What in the world is an elephant?" The Imp asked, face twisted in annoyance.

"It's an animal," Lacey replied. "You don't have elephants here?"

"We must certainly do not. Now, stop it, you look ridiculous," He grumbled, eyes flickering away from her back to the door.

She didn't lower her hand, just plucked uncomfortably at the folds of her dress. Sure it was foolish, she knew that but all the same- she smelled horrible, her hair was an oil slick on her scalp. She could feel the red spots on her chin from not being able to wash her face with anything other than goblet water the past few days. To sum it up, she was miserable but she was not going to give him any further ammunition. So, she sat stubbornly with her mouth wedged tightly shut and her hand propped against her chin in defiance.

"Have it your way. If you insist on worrying about your vanity more than dying of consumption," he snarled, standing and striding out of the room, clicking his fingers behind him before disappearing in purple smoke. She lowered her hand, wiping it roughly on her shredded ball gown when she saw it.

A table had appeared just to the left of the bed. A pitcher of water now stood by the goblet along with a few twig like apparatuses which smelled strongly like mint. Lacey picked one up, sniffed at it before gently touching it to her lips.

When nothing happened, she sucked it into her mouth, chewed it a bit and felt the burst of minty freshness against her tongue. She happily continued to chew on it, glancing at the cloth that was lying neatly beside the pitcher and the large cotton towel that was under it.

Not a bath, she understood, but a huge improvement. She eagerly shed her jacket, wrestled unsuccessfully for a bit for the lacing in the back of her dress before with a final wrench of her shoulders, she managed to grab the final knot and pull it down off her hips.

She nearly wept with the feeling of the dress falling off her. She threw a worried glance at the bars on the door but no one was staring at her through the bars. She picked up the pitcher, pouring the entire thing over her head in one big rush. She let out a shamelessly happy squeak when she realized it like the goblet had an endless water supply spell cast on it. She let the pitcher serve as a type of shower, laughing despite herself as the room temperature water splashed about her feet before disappearing mysteriously from the dry stones.

Afterwards, she was wrapped in her towel, scrubbing at the stains on her dress with the small cloth when dinner appeared. She abandoned her new project to eat the sandwich and fruit that was laid out for her when she realized she wasn't as cold as usual.

She frowned, looking around the room. It was definitely warmer than it had been before her faux shower. The fruit felt cool in her hand and she popped the berries into her mouth, grateful that this land had the same kind of fruit as they did at least. Perhaps there's hope for coffee after all-she thought happily, chewing eagerly on a strawberry.

After she finished eating, her hair was still wet but with no alternative than to redress herself in her soiled gown, she kept her towel on, humming a few bars from an old show tune and turned back to scrubbing her gown-

But it was gone.

"Hey!" She yelled, affronted at this new turn towards perversion. "I need something to wear!"

When nothing happened, she gave a heavy sigh before squeezing her eyes shut. She counted to ten to calm down before re-opening them to find a pleasant surprise.

Laying across what she know referred to as "his" chair was a cotton sky blue dress, a white blouse folded over it and nude stockings lay neatly on the seat itself with black flats tucked daintily beneath it. She threw a look at the door, before walking slowly over to hold up the white blouse to the candle light.

It was delicate- thick material but with lace patterning along the bodice and shoulders; scallop necked with a collar and soft sheen buttons going down it. She slid it on, lamenting she hadn't worn a bra to the Gala. She hadn't missed it with the tight corset and pinning of her gown but in a loose collared shirt, her nipples pebbled against the fabric.

Her underwear she had wadded up after the second day and she realized it had probably disappeared too and she simply hadn't realized it. No undergarments were laid out, so she pulled the stockings up, fastening them awkwardly while fiddling with the stays and laces on them before she finally slipped on the warm blue dress.

It had russet piping on the pockets, tucked neatly at her waist. She reached a hand into the pocket as she slipped her new flats on, marveling at how they were all the right size, trying not to ponder how he had known. Her hand suddenly encountered the smooth silk feeling of a ribbon. She smiled despite herself, pulling her wet hair off her back, curling it into a bun and sighing in contentment as she fastened the matching blue ribbon to hold the curls in place.

She scooted back over to the bed, reaching under the burlap to check and make sure Emma's tiara was still tucked away. She was glad she had the forethought to hide it under the burlap pillow a few days ago, now that the jacket and the dress had vanished to who knows where. She was comforted by it as odd as that seemed to her now, but it was something of Emma's, of Storybrooke, of real life.

She curled her legs up underneath her, drawing the burlap under her head, placing the tiara in her new pocket, humming an old ballad off key to herself.

She was not going to say thank you.

Over the next few days, a nightgown, a new day dress, a robe and a blanket appeared. Her supply of breath mints never ran low and her new shower system worked much better with a towel for her body and one she could wrap her long hair up in afterwards. Her clothes would disappear when she stripped them off but reappeared the next day when she finished showering.

Her food continued to appear on time and she woke one morning to find a pillow tucked under her head like it had been there the whole time. She smiled dizzily into the feather down pillow, nuzzling deeply into it and sighing delightedly before she caught herself. She cleared her face, coughed brusquely and hit it with the palm of her hand a few times before going back to sleep, her aching neck finally relaxing.

She didn't say thank you.

On what she assumed to be the third week of her stay and with boredom driving her up a wall, Lacey couldn't fall asleep no matter what she tried. She whapped her pillow hard in frustration, grumbled darkly and then hit it again for good measure.

"Whatever did that pillow do to you?" Sang a voice from the doorway, just as it swung open. She groaned, clutching the pillow to her and sitting upright in a panic.

"You can't just take the pillow away because I hit it," She found herself saying in a rush, clutching it tighter to her chest. Her nightgown was thick cotton with what felt like fleece lining but she wasn't wearing a bra and she didn't want him to see that. "I hit things I like, ask anyone."

"As true as I'm sure that is," he replied, glancing around. "You have barely eaten anything in two days. Explain."

"I'm not hungry," she retorted, keeping his gaze.

"You're lying," he answered. He looked at her and she clutched her pillow tighter, a weird feeling he could see through it overtaking her.

"I'm not going to take the infernal pillow." He waved his arms in frustration. He was wearing the brown cloak again, his crocodile boots caked in mud and his face travel worn. "So stop clutching at it like it's your firstborn!"

"You've been away?" She interjected suddenly, piecing together the clues on him, fingers tightening on the pillowcase.

He didn't respond at first but then he gave a short nod. She frowned at him as she bent toward him, "You left me alone? Locked up?" Self-righteous anger rose in her, the pillow falling between them as she railed, "What if something had happened to you? What would happen to me if-"

"While your concern for me is touching," he interrupted. She felt her mouth snap shut, a warm flush rising in her face. "I assure you- nothing can or will happen to me and in the very, very unlikelihood of that ever happening, you would find yourself free."

"Oh," she responded, toying with the lace on the hem of her nightgown. "Well, that's all right then."

After all, when someone kept you captive, she thought, it should matter to you what happens to them. She wasn't being heartless, she told herself, glancing away from the golden glint of his stare. Just practical.

"The question of where you would go in such a case- is one I'm sure you haven't bothered to think though." She looked up at him, startled to see he knew exactly what she was thinking about- that if he was gone; she would be free to get out of this horrid dungeon.

He was beaming now, watching her discomfort spread before him, "Can I-" She started but she bit her lip, trying to figure out how to word her request without him responding with a hasty dismissal.

"Spit it out," he commanded, the self amused grin back on his features.

He looks odd with it, she realized. Not scary or threatening, but wrong and twisted. Everything in this world is like that, she thought, scooting closer to him. Twisted.

His eyes widened slightly at her approach, scanning her quickly, nose flaring in unease. Day is night, and night is day, up is down and down is up, she thought as she got the closest she had been to him yet. Their faces were about a foot apart and she swallowed hard, fingers wrapped tightly in her hemline.

"Is there something I can do? Around the castle maybe? Anything? Anything at all- God, there has to be something-I'm going stir crazy down here!"

He blinked, slowly. She had the odd feeling he hadn't thought that was what she was going to ask. He had probably been preparing her for to beg for her life or freedom. Lacey bit the inside of her cheek at the idea of surprising him, eyes glassy with determination.

"Emma asked me to trust her and I did. And she seemed to think you protecting me was the only viable option, so I'm going to trust her. Not you, but Emma. And I know I'm not going to get any answers from you on why Emma knows you or where I am exactly but-"

"Why," he interrupted, a flash of a smile spreading across his mouth. "If you wanted to know where you were, all you had to do was ask, dearie. You're in Fae, more specifically The Dark Castle in the Ninth Kingdom. How's that?"

She looked at him puzzled, before blurting, "I'm where now?"

Silence was thick between them for a moment before he leaned closer, his voice high pitched and eerie once more. "You're in the land of faeries and dragons, kings and queens, goblins and witches-" He whispered, watching her blue eyes widen.

He's enjoying this, she numbly thought, trying to breathe normally.

"And your dear friend, Emma- why she's a Princess of the Fourth Kingdom. Or didn't you realize that when you found her tiara in your pocket?"

He was giggling again, clapping his hands excitedly as Lacey sat uncomprehending, trying in vain to find her balance in a world that seemed permanently upside down.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

_Pulsing_.

Lacey was running towards it, the flat grass spreading out before her, expanding.

_Flaming in the dark._

She felt the speed but not the cold, she felt the heat and the fear but she couldn't feel the throbbing in her foot anymore-

_Black Figure –_

Laughing, laughing at her while she squeezed and Lacey was still running- she had to stop it this time or -

_And he was falling- his eyes empty- just the glow of the heart reflecting back where Graham used to be-_

All Lacey did now was dream.

* * *

_A month_.

_A lousy month here_, Lacey thought bitterly. She was in the middle of mentally writing her fourth article on her slip into insanity, hoping to at least get something out of her time. So, when she heard her door swing open, she continued to lie utterly still, tensing only slightly at the unanticipated visit. She continued tinkering with her Bell Jar reference footnote, trying to find a better word for delusion when she really wanted to say hopeless-

For a moment, he didn't enter and she felt a stab of irritation at him but pushed it away. She didn't want or need his company- she had her own mind- traitorous as it was becoming, especially in sleep…

_No_, she thought angrily, _don't think about it. Now, if I am the victim in this scenario- how does that relate to my childhood- or does it relate more to high school_-

The footsteps didn't startle her, deliberate but light, barely noticeable unless one had been locked up with just themselves for a month. _It sounds like he's… tiptoeing_?

She continued with her second paragraph, wondering how to explain how the magical jailer figure represented her father or some other Freudian stereotype when a sudden weight suddenly fell on her stomach.

"Wakie, wakie, dearie," sang her jailer.

She fumbled madly at the sudden weight, knocking it off her stomach and onto the slab beside her, "The _hell_-"she ignored his delighted squeal, furious he had been able to get a response from her. She kept her eyes averted; looking peevishly down at the weight to see it was-

"This. This is for me?" She asked in disbelief, not waiting for an answer before snatching it from where it had fallen. The Imp snapped his clawed digits and the chair appeared below him just as he elegantly flipped out his leather coattails, sitting primly before her.

She eyed him, curling her legs up underneath her, clutching the book to her chest. She was dying to open it, flip through the thick bound page, the smell of old paper wafting up to her nostrils. She bit her lip, hard, ignoring the chapped skin's protest before she blurted, "What is this?"

"It's a book," He deadpanned, inspecting his cuff links. She lacked the motivation to glare at him she could only look down. It was a thick tome, similar to old cookbooks she had seen in kitchens- the cover was dark red, leather bound but the pages were not flush with the binding. She found herself absently stroking the spine and forced herself to stop.

But he had noticed. He was staring at her hands, his knowing smirk lurking around the corners of his tight mouth. She slowly released the book to rest in her lap, knowing if he chose, he could magic it away from her and she wouldn't be able to stop him.

"You asked to do something?" he reminded her, waving a hand in impatience. "I assume this will be satisfactory?"

Lacey willed herself not to clutch it, relaxing her grip from the prize. It had been two weeks of slow mental decline, slipping dangerously into her mind, trying to avoid clawing at the walls or screaming in frustration. And the nightmares- _god the nightmares_… A book was more than she had hoped for, more than she thought this monster would have been willing to give.

"Perfectly," she found herself saying evenly. Her eyes strayed to her pillow, the last "thing" he had given her. She struggled not to name it a gift in her mind- it hadn't been a gift- it had been an afterthought.

She raised her head, chin tilted out defiant. He raised one brow at her, waiting for her thank you. "But I don't want it," she finally managed, sliding it back to him.

She felt prickles behind her eyes, everything in her screaming to grab it back, flip open the front cover and start to read. She didn't care if it was a mechanics book or in a different language- anything, anything to alleviate the emptiness of this cage.

He leaned back from her, teeth bared in a hideous smile. She kept her gaze on his hooded eyes, trying to face the snake as best she could- the book laying between them on the slab of stone- a gauntlet thrown down in challenge.

"Picky are we?" He began, employing a mockingly polite tone as a spear. She waited for him to magic it at her, girding her backbone for the strike. "Why- then perhaps my other gifts were unwelcomed as well?"

She felt the magic building around him. It was a familiar electrical charge, like a summer evening before a thunderstorm, heavy, looming, promising to break over you or suffocate you with the waiting.

She kept her gaze steady; she knew if she looked away the dam would break. The magic continued to build, curling over his features, his long thin hair, swaying slighting in the static. She felt it creeping towards her, the source of his ire. It was searching for her, reaching out for her in the small cramped room-

"Gifts?" She said in a low dangerous whisper, trying to keep her voice neutral. The magic was at her face now, pushing her hair back slightly as it curled around her neck. She jerked away from it, breaking eye contact with him. "You promised me protection and then locked me in a dungeon. You threaten me with every visit and you award me things as if I was supposed to be eternally grateful for your cruelty."

The beast cocked his head, eyes darting to the basin and pitcher on the table. Her new nightgown lay carefully beside the goblet. His eyes flicked back to her, searching her face for any sign of emotion. She kept still, her face blank, breathing slowly and reaching for the calm she never had found in the city yoga studio. The magic pushed down her spine, wrapping around her like a second skin. Lacey kept herself still, turning back to him as the words broke free of their dam.

"I did not ask for these "_gifts_"," she continued, careful to use her words as a shield. "I asked for something to do, a task so I could earn my keep and you denied me. You have kept me locked up even when I have no intention of running away, God- where would I even go? I'm in a castle in some story tale alternative universe or I'm insane and heavily medicated somewhere in a padded room- and I don't know which one of those realities I would prefer-"

He said nothing, just stared at her with that odd intensity. The magic was still present but it was not as pressing as earlier. It felt more contained, less hostile.

"You are my guardian for this year, Imp but you have chosen the role of warden. So, _no_. I will not say thank you for these "gifts"," she indicated the things around her, plucking at the blue dress as she spoke. "I will not bow to a thing that looks for fear in those he has promised to protect."

For a moment, they stared at each other, both unsure of what the other was thinking. "I see," he finally said, unmoving. She nodded, knuckles white in her dress's folds. Without meaning to, she glanced down at the book, breaking the stalemate. She swallowed back the other diatribes, trying to find the next thing to say but when she looked back up, he was gone.

Releasing the shaky breath she had been holding, Lacey pressed the palm of her hands to her eyes and rubbed fiercely trying to push back the threatening tears of hysteria. When she finally calmed her heart rate down, she blinked open her eyes to find the book was still sitting on the edge of the bed.

She reached for it with shaky hands. When she grasped the cover, solid and real, she clutched it back to her chest with lighting speed. She laughed for a moment at her foolishness, licking her lips, eyes darting to the closed door like a guilty child before cracking the spine open.

It was only after a few pages in that she realized his disappearance hadn't been accompanied with purple smoke.

* * *

A few days later, Lacey was flipping the page of her newly acquired treasure, rereading how to properly sew a button when the door swung open. She finished her paragraph, ignoring the feeling of him watching her before she finally lowered the book to her lap, looking at him through the wisps of her hair. "Well?" She murmured in greeting, keeping the book open in her lap. "Are you here to stare or was there something you wanted?"

"You haven't been eating," He muttered, arms crossed sullenly in front of him. "Is it a hunger strike now?"

She blinked at him, looking away towards her desk and noticing three or four plates untouched. "Oh." She turned her sight back to her book, shrugging absently. "I must have been reading-"

"You look terrible," he grumbled, but it lacked his usual glee. Lacey moved to answer, angrily reaching up to touch her hair when she realized he had yet to enter the room. He was leaning against the doorjamb, silent and cross. His eyes were narrowed on her but he had not moved to enter.

She glanced down to find she was in his usual chair, feet propped up on her stone mattress. She had been getting a backache from reading lying on her side so she had moved to the chair without thinking-

She frowned at him, closing her book in mediation. If she had realized all it would take to keep him out was to sit in his stupid chair, she would have never gotten up from the damn thing. She slowly lowered her hand, returning her eyes to the book, "If you came to insult me, you can do it when I'm asleep-"

"Do you still want to be of service to this household?"

She nearly dropped the book, she stood up so fast. "Yes!" she blurted, before catching herself. "I mean, yes of course, I realize you must have servants or something but I'd be happy to do something-"

He snorted, effectively cutting her off before sharing, "The Dark Castle has neither servants nor tenants. You and I are the only living things here."

Lacey nodded her understanding, rubbing her hands anxiously on her dress. "I suppose you use magic to cook and clean then?" She wagered, motioning towards her dishes. He nodded, still not entering the room. He seemed uncomfortable in the doorway, smaller somehow.

"So...do you need someone to sew?" She asked puzzled, lifting the book towards him. He looked briefly taken aback, glancing at the book like she meant to throw it at him.

"Of course not," he snapped, readjusting the fit of his jacket. The leather scaled armor moved over his slight frame, his fingernails making a nasty scraping noise against the material. "Don't be ridiculous."

"No need to be rude," she found herself muttering, reaching over to snag an apple off the breakfast plate. "You're the one who gave me a book about household chores…"

A frustrated sigh startled her and she glanced back over towards. He was looking irritably at his feet, shifting his weight back and forth from the heels to the balls of his toes. His usual tension was broken with indecision and it humanized him slightly. Lacey found herself staring at him as she bit into his apple but when he glanced back at her, she quickly looked away busying herself with wiping off the juice running down her chin.

"The castle is open to you," he finally ground out, raising one finger when she opened her mouth in delight. "But any door that does not open upon your approach is off limits. And do not try and enter the West Wing."

Lacey found herself smiling at that, quipping, "Is that where the Oval Office is?"

He shook his head, baffled, looking at her as if she had lost her mind. She bit back her laughter, her mouth almost hurting in her attempt not to grin at her joke. She formed a fist and pressed it to her lips, "Sorry, I just- we have a thing-"

"It is off limits," he repeated, steel lacing his tone. She nodded in agreement, her chest quaking with barely suppressed laughter. A moment pause and then he was gone, purple smoke swirling about the door frame before disappearing, leaving its awful smell behind.

Lacey finally quelled her laughter, placing her book down neatly on her bed before rushing gleefully towards the door. She stopped just short of the threshold, taking a deep breath, trying not to appear overeager before she stepped neatly over the door frame.

She winced, waiting for something to happen, a gleeful shriek at her naivety or even magic to pick her up and throw her back in her cell, but nothing happened.

She felt the smile spreading across her face as she made her way towards the stairs, following the flickering candelabras mounted to the wall, barely able to keep herself from skipping.

* * *

In her first few hours of explorations, Lacey found the kitchen area, dark and seemingly unused. The pantry and larder well fully stocked with fruits, vegetables, grains and meats and she helped herself to a few berries before she exited, carefully marking how to make her way back from her chambers.

She found a great hall, all the windows boarded up, their great heights twice the size as the Inn's great hall, massive curtains hanging in dust, but no cobwebs to be seen. She tugged at one board for a moment, wondering if it was day or night but gave up when she realized magic was being used against her in her quest to open the window.

She trailed along until she discovered the entrance hall, walking carefully towards the large spiral staircase that swung open into the dark depths of the second floor when a familiar cackle interrupted her.

"West wing, dearie."

She nodded, backing away from the grand staircase towards the master of the castle who was now behind her. He was grinning that black toothed smile of his but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Uh sorry," she apologized, glancing over her shoulder at him. "I'm a bit unsure of where I am- I didn't realize."

"Well, now you do." He chirped eyes dangerous slits in his face. "Run along."

She nodded, went to head back towards the safe area she had been exploring before she stopped. He watched her, standing coiled like a cobra, head swaying waiting for the charge.

"Would you-"she licked her dry lips, ignoring her misgivings, "care to tell me if it is day or night?"

He relaxed slightly, eyes opening more to reflect the overhead candles. "Night," he responded warily.

She nodded her understanding, making a small motion towards the doors, "Are all the windows and doors boarded?"

"Trying to get out?" He hissed, the predator grin sliding back over his features. "Why, it hasn't even been one night and you're already trying to find an escape-"

"I was hoping for the sight of the sky," she confessed, fiddling with the button around her collar. He waved his wrist in disgusted disinterest and she sighed angrily before turning away. "I'll leave the windows alone for now," she allowed, plotting how she might get him to let her outside for some exercise or something.

He grunted, walking away from her towards a hallway, a suit of armor standing at salute nearby. She followed him, careful to keep her distance as she looked up at the oddities around her. There was more beasts hanging, a few paintings of things like battles and plagues- even one odd modern looking piece of art which she found to be dried blood splatter upon closer inspection.

He turned, saw her following and sighed, "Now I have a shadow, how sentimental," he criticized.

Lacey ignored him, walking ahead of him, trying not to cringe when her skirt hem brushed against him. "You said I had free roam of the castle," she reminded him, walking ahead. She kept her pace steady, head held high as she took careful measured steps down the long hall and away from him.

When she finally emerged in a large room with a high table in the center, pedestals all around the perimeter of the room- large windows on the southern side of it covered in heavy brocade curtains- she squeaked in alarm when she found the Imp sitting cross legged on the table, a smug smile on his lips. She turned behind her to look back down the long hallway before back at him. "Cute," she snapped.

Walking towards the closest pedestal to cover her embarrassment, she reached out a finger to trace the odd golden bracelet lying so invitingly on the velvet pillow when his voice stilled her hand. "Careful, dearie. All these are my personal treasures- most magical and very dangerous. I wouldn't touch." She snatched her hand back from the gleaming bauble, turning and giving him a baleful glare before marching back down the hallway, his laughter following behind her.

* * *

Lacey made another stop at the kitchen on the way back to her room, loading her own plate full of meats, cheeses and bread before finding a hidden dish of what appeared to be jam pastries which she stuffed in her deep pockets.

She headed back down the stairs, humming slightly, a song on her tongue and the red sting of strawberries plumping her lips when she re-entered her chambers to find-

Nothing. Her pillow, blankets and book were gone, the nightgown and spare blouse had vanished and even her goblet and pitcher had disappeared. She felt utterly bereft. She tried to hold the plate steady she re-entered her chamber and sat stiffly on her hated slab.

She kicked her heels out, letting them smack painfully against the stone side of her bed, sniffling slightly and picking listlessly at her food. _The brute_, she grumbled internally. _Gives me free access to his castle and while I'm away takes away all the things he deems me too ungrateful for._

She let the plate slide out of her hands, hitting the floor with a clang, food falling off the plate, bouncing off the stones. She pulled her knees up to her chin, furious and upset at herself for being so petulant like a toddler. She was cursing the Imp in every way she knew how when she finally curled up on her side to go to sleep, tears slipping angrily down her cheeks.

_I'll show him,_ she fumed. _I'll grab as many things not nailed down as I can tomorrow and-_

"What in the world are you doing?" Asked the incredulous and wholly unwelcome voice from the doorway. She ignored him, curling tighter in her ball.

"Go away," she snipped, squeezing her eyes shut. _It wasn't fair he can just open the door whenever he feels-_

"You aren't going to sleep down here still, are you?" She turned over, eyes finding his in the open doorway. He was smiling, but it was genuinely amused this time. Upside down, she blinked up at him, trying to decipher his meaning.

"You mean-"she started, rolling up and tugging her skirt down.

"You're welcome to it," he giggled. "But I had taken the liberty of moving your things upstairs-"

She nodded solemnly, standing stiffly in embarrassment. "You could have said," she found herself muttering, walking towards him with her eyes averted in angry humiliation.

He bowed extravagantly; arms wind milling about before he folded in half. She exited past him, careful not to respond to his theatrics. She made her way up the narrow staircase, trying not to jump when he was in front of her again, waiting for her in the main hall.

"Well?" She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest in obvious annoyance. His grin widened and he wordlessly pointed down the hall she had walked down earlier. She pushed past him, muttering darkly under her breath.

As she neared the earlier large trophy room, a door swung open to her left, another staircase climbing upwards. She didn't look back to confirm, but went up it, following it to a landing where another door creaked open. She walked briskly, expecting the Imp to jump out at her any second with a laughing glee at her lost wanderings but when she finally entered an actual room, she gulped.

It was a solarium. The floor was stone but a large woven rug spanned the center of the room, warm pinks and gold flecked in its surface. A four poster bed was pushed against the wall, its cherry posters spiraling upwards in curved tendrils, a canopy descending around it and a small footsteps leading up to its high lofts.

A window seat was straight ahead, book shelves full of books on either side, the curtains drawn open to the night sky outside, a quarter moon and a half moon sharing the sky, stars like buttons in the black sky. It was starting to lighten out she noticed.

Her feet took her to the window before she realized her destination, and she kneeled up on the ivy green cushions, pressing her cheek to the window, warm in what she assumed was this land's summer.

She watched the sky for a moment, hearing nothing outside but the wind. No insect noises or birds, just the rustling of the woods that seemed to be just outside her window ledge and the occasional wind creaking.

She was so enamored with the two moons hanging low in the sky she didn't stir when she heard the footsteps outside the doorway. "And how does the _lady_ find her new quarters?" Her jailor asked, trilling over the word lady as if she had missed the title for the barb it was.

She tore her eyes away, blinking quickly lest he think the moonlight in her eyes were tears. He was standing outside her door, arm propped on his side and legs jutted out in a cocky stance. She glanced around the room, keeping her chin even with her sweep, noticing the small doorway which she assumed led to a bathing area from the glinting of porcelain in the depths to the large cream wardrobe where she saw her nightgown and a few other blouses and dresses hanging before back to his waiting grin.

She stood from her crouched seat and walked evenly towards him. He watched her approach, straightening slightly as she neared him, her hips rolling as she tilted her shoulders back and chest forward. His eyes darted down before progressing back up to hers and she felt her lips curl into a familiar feminine smile.

_So, a man after all perhaps._

She reached the doorway, him just outside of her new quarters, his grin fading slightly as hers grew broader. Her fingers curled around the edge of the door as her other arm leaned against the doorframe, perfectly framing her in the door's entryway. He blinked at her, eyes wary. "Tell me; is this door for show as well?" She murmured.

He kept her stare, recognizing it for the challenge it was. "It will keep anyone out unless you wish for them to enter," he finally said, and she nodded in understanding.

"Well, then," she smiled, baring her teeth. "I find this to be satisfactory."

And then she slammed the door in his face, grinning wolfishly ear to ear as she pranced back to her bed, falling down in the feather softness and laughing to herself over her first real victory. Small as it was.

* * *

_Stone was creeping over her knees…_

She couldn't fight it as it spread slowly upwards-

_Emma's sad eyes staring at her through the iron curls of the gate-_

Emma whispering her name, hands reaching out to touch hers but they were stone now- she was trying to yell, trying to scream for help but the Imp was there, laughing, laughing at her and then there was nothing-

Jerking awake, Lacey found herself in a dark room, mattress shifting underneath her palms and she looked down confused before it clicked into place.

Relaxing, she pushed the dream out of her mind. Burrowing deeper in the warmth of her bed, her feet which had been like icicles for weeks, finally thawing in the warmth of the summer heat. She had drawn the canopy closed around the bed as the sun rose the night before. Some stubborn part of her was determined to keep on the same time as her own land, which meant day was night and night was day.

She yawned, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, stretching luxuriously and moaning in delight as the bed dipped down to embrace her fully. Despite the nightmares, she felt better rested than her prior month on the stone so after a moment she decided to get up.

As she got out of bed, she glanced at the open window where the moons were hanging like low fruit before she made her way to the wash area. After relieving herself in the annoyingly same chamber pot, she looked about for a mirror but didn't find one.

She puzzled for a moment before she realized, she didn't want to see herself. She had lost weight since her stay at the castle of horrors and she didn't want to see what a month of no face cream, shampoo or lotion had done to her looks.

Determined to have some control of her appearance, she picked a new dress out of the wardrobe, a yellow cream with pink laces and tiny pink buttons all down the back. As she put it on, she started to button it up the back as best she could, wondering how she would get the ones in the middle of her back when she felt a slight pressure at the small of her back. Startled, she jerked her hand away as she felt the buttons start to do themselves all the way up.

She whirled around; facing the wardrobe but no one was there. After a moment's pause, her fingers tracing the buttons at her neck in thought, recognizing magical assistance had solved her problem but wary as what it may have expected in return. A small gesture of thanks, she figured, couldn't hurt. She nodded to the empty air before moving towards the window seat and the bookshelves, trying to find something more interesting to read than her previous read.

* * *

Later that night, Lacey went out exploring again after she had her mid-evening meal. She found herself a cozy study with wing backed chairs which looked to be an excellent reading nook on the same floor of her room. There was a spinning wheel artfully placed in the other corner, a bundle of straw lying next to it. She had traced the wooden wheel with her fingers upon entering, found it soothing rather than the other magical apparatus scattered around and had made herself comfortable in the largest wingback chair in front of the fire place when she heard the wheel start creaking to life.

Alarmed, she leaned over the arm of the chair, wondering what kind of magic she had awoken but was instead surprised to find the Imp sitting at the wheel, feeding straw into the device, his eyes closed as he swayed silently as his fingers moved swiftly about the wheel.

Her new pressure on the chair arm caused the old thing to creak irritability and the Imp's eyes flew open, magic instinctively swelling around him as he stood abruptly. The two faced each other in the room, her seated and half hidden in the depths of the chair and him standing awkwardly over a spinning wheel.

She licked her lips, nodded at him politely before ducking back and pretend to continue to read, staring at the words on the page and trying to figure out what he was doing.

When the chair floated upwards suddenly, spinning itself around neatly before depositing itself back on to the carpeted rug by the mantle with a soft thud, she yelped, clutching the chair's arm with one hand, mouth open in shock, the other clutching her book to her chest, fingers bloodless when she saw him smirking at her.

"Spying, are we?" He chortled, flexing his clawed hands at her before wiggling his finger. "Rude of you, dearie."

"I was reading," she replied haughtily. "And I wasn't disturbing you at whatever it is you were doing. "

He glanced down at the wheel, fingers tracing the spokes tenderly. She averted her eyes back to her lap, feeling like she was missing something. She stood woodenly, nodding at him without looking at him. "I'll just go back to my room," she offered, heading back towards the door and not looking back, hurrying away. "Even though I _was_ here first," she shot back to cover her retreat. She was unsure and uncomfortable with the familiarity of his magic now; trying to avoid it in this place was proving impossible.

* * *

They continued to occasionally bump into each other over the course of the next week.

Lacey was learning the telltale signs of his magical signature, avoiding rooms where it felt like a thunder storm was gathering or stopping short of a room where the odd smoky smell was lingering. He had not come to her room since the first night and she never found him near the kitchen so those became her two main sanctuaries.

She avoided the magical trophy hall and the spinning room now, as well as the large tower that she often felt the magical presence lingering. She presumed it to be his quarters, but puzzled over them not being in the forbidden area that was the West Wing.

Even though curiosity was eating her alive on that score, she avoided the grand staircase, certain the second she stepped foot on it, she would be sent back to the dungeon with her burlap sack and chamber pot.

* * *

One night as she stumbled in the kitchen for a snack, she stumbled upon some tea bags and sugar. The idea of caffeine made her mouth water and she searched for another few moments for coffee but gave up when she realized it was not stocked.

She fumbled around for a bit in the kitchen, clanging old pots and pans about, searching for a kettle or a pot to boil water in when a shrill shriek made her bang her head against the top of a drawer.

Cursing, she leaned back out, rubbing the bruised crown of her head even though her ego hurt more.

Sitting on the stove top was a white kettle, purple lines curled gently around its swells, the spigot steaming nicely in the dark kitchen. She turned around, looking for a tea towel, when a glimpse of white on the table made her stop short.

_Oh, of course the magic's helping_, she noted, giving her now custom nod of thanks to it for its service before taking the teapot and carefully pouring the steaming water into the teacup she had found.

She was startled to find another teacup when she turned back to the stove, waiting patiently for its turn to be filled. She paused, turning back to her own teacup, almost dropping the tea kettle in surprise.

Her teacup was now on a tea caddy, sugar bowls, cream and spoons delicately laid out on the golden tray, a packet of wafers next to it.

Her mouth watered and she put the tea kettle back on the stove, ignoring the additional teacup to grab a sugary wafer, almost tasting the vanilla goodness.

The tea caddy shot backwards away from her.

She blinked, taking a step towards it, just to find it rolling away from her.

"Really?" She asked, grimacing when she realized now she was talking to the magic. She put her hands on her hips, trying to puzzle what she was supposed to do exactly, when another short shriek from the tea kettle drew her attention back to the stove.

The extra teacup had moved closer to her now, forlorn on its own. She stared at it a moment before giving it to the annoying thing, filling it with the water, the tea bag bursting in delight as the heated water released it's leaves.

She picked it up, careful to avoid the scalding sides and placed it on the caddy with her own cup. She picked up the tea kettle from the stove, adding a tea bag to it as well, nestling it in its preordained spot on the cart.

"Happy?" She asked, hands on her hips. The tea cart rolled forward on its own slightly, squeaking to a halt and waiting for her to follow it.

"I am not following you," she told it sternly, sitting down on the edge of the kitchen table. "You just go on and go where you're going. I'll make another cup."

The teacart squeaked at her indignantly and God help her, she laughed.

"Fine," she smiled at it, walking up and taking the handles firmly in her grip. "We'll go have tea in the sitting room."

The cart squeaked again and she wheeled it down the hall, trying not to notice the nicest conversation she had to date in Fae was with an inanimate object.

* * *

Entering the sitting room, Lacey found it already occupied. The Imp looked up from his table, paper spread in a wide circle around him. His jacket was over the chair he was sitting in, the laces at his throat undone, exposing his collarbones and outlining his sternum. He looked up at her in confusion before back to his papers, dismissing her silently.

She tried to wheel the cart back out but it shot forward. _Of course it wanted to feed its master_, she though sullenly. _I'm just the delivery girl._

At the sudden rattling of the tea things, the Imp looked back up darkly. She nodded to him, gesturing down at the tea cart. "Thirsty?" He was frowning at her, before he shook his head and went back to his work.

The cart rolled forward, bumping his chair with a happy squeak and he glanced over at it before sighing and looking back at her. "Put it over there," he waved a hand towards the left of him where an untouched plate of cold chicken sat.

Lacey exhaled noisily at the thought of him ordering her about, before striding forward and wheeling the now curiously unsqueaking cart over to the corner. It didn't move but the extra teacup slightly twisted so its handle was easy for her to grasp. She exhaled noisily before reaching up, plucking it from its saucer and angrily slamming it down on the edge of the table closest to her. It wavered for a second on the edge beside his elbow before it teetered preciously and righted itself. She eyed it darkly before jolting the table with her hip in a sudden move, watching with some petty enjoyment as the tea cup splashed down onto the floor.

Tea splashed up and out of the small teacup, coating his arm in the fall. She knew it wasn't hot enough to scald anymore, but she still got a perverse enjoyment from watching it soak into a few nearby papers.

"Oh darn," she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest in smugness. "How clumsy of me."

He waved his hand towards the mess, tea disappearing as well as all the papers before turning a golden glinting eye up at her. "Careful, dearie," he warned. "I've killed men for less than that."

She kept his eye for a minute before glancing back down at the now empty teacup, a huge chunk missing from its lip from her show of defiance. "Didn't break," she pointed out. "Just chipped. Don't have a cow."

_We both knew full well you could mend it with just a flick of a _finger, she grumbled internally. He went back to his work but she felt the familiar presence of his magic building up around her. She briefly played with the idea of taking the cart and leaving but she decided against it. Purely out of stubbornness.

She pulled the chair next to his out, scrapping it across the wooden floor, him watching silently, before reaching out to the caddy and picking up the pot of tea.

She leaned over the table top, careful of the sharp edge and poured in the hot liquid in his mug, liquid splashing merrily in the small cup.

"Sugar?" She offered, stirring some into her cup before adding milk. He watched as she made her tea a sludgy mess before he wordlessly picked up his cup and sniffed it uncertainty.

"Haven't poisoned it," she pointed out helpfully, taking a sip of hers and letting the caffeine soak into her tongue. She sighed blissfully, small steam curling up from her mug to tickle her nose.

"I don't like tea," he finally said, pushing it away from him in disgust.

"Your loss," she replied evenly, taking another sip and leaning back in her chair. "Cookie?" She offered, holding out the plate.

He continued to stare in bewildered disgust before shaking his head wordlessly. She shrugged and crammed one in her mouth, chewing noisily, savoring the vanilla goodness.

After a short time passed, her flipping through the book she had brought with her to the kitchen when he had abruptly banished the papers. He continued to sit still, watching her enjoy her tea, not touching his own.

When her tea was finished, she stood, brushing off the crumbs from her dress and placing both the tea cups, his still untouched on the tea cart.

She wheeled it away, going to reach for the door but it swung one for her and she turned to find his hand flicked out towards the door, wordlessly holding it open for her to leave with ease.

She quirked her lips at him in amusement; nodding her recognition before heading out, humming a few bars of the song she usually saved for karaoke nights, leaving the Imp behind her.

The door snapped close as she made her way down the hallway but Lacey didn't notice. She was too busy trying to figure if she could trick the castle into providing her with coffee to realize she had just taken tea with a beast.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Well, out of the basement and into the castle we go! **

**I hope everyone noticed the little side jokes of the major players from Beauty and the Beast- Chip, Mrs. Potts, the Wardrobe and Lumiere all made brief appearances and while they aren't enchanted servants waiting for a spell to be broken- they are still a little aware, shall we say?**

**Big welcome to **_**Marcellin, SansaFort, VyeLoyomBrightwarrior, Azerona, Kiri Huo Ziv, cocacolagrl84 **_**and **_**straycatdying**_**! I am so happy you guys are following along with the story! And a large and heartfelt thank you to **_**thecompletebookworm**_** for the lovely review- it made my whole day and I couldn't help but come home and upload today. So thank you all. So much. **

**I hope everyone's enjoying themselves now that Lacey is up and out of the dungeon! Where will she go next? Mmm…**

**As always, if you see an error, DM me and let me know to win my heart and internal gratitude. I work without a beta and I get excited and forget to proofread after the final edits so errors do happen! **

**-B**


	7. Chapter 7

Time passed.

Clocks ticked away in their mindless count. Dawn and dusk came and went. And Lacey grew accustomed to life in an enchanted castle.

Well, maybe not accustomed but at least resigned.

Through her first few weeks of freedom, the Imp stayed mainly out of sight but she could feel him- that is to say, she could feel his magic, that dark pressing heaviness that came and went like storm clouds. She avoided areas where it felt like a summer storm brewing, preferring peace and quiet to the company of the creature.

Lacey's days usually passed wandering the halls of the castle, exploring the dark halls and crevices of the seemingly endless corridors to stave off her increasing boredom. Staircases that looped upwards for flights and flights would suddenly dead end into mid air, seemingly regular doors opened onto solid stone walls and every curtain was drawn- the musty fabric magically sealed shut.

There was dirt and dust coating most surfaces; cobwebs spun in cupboards and corners with rusty hinges and squeaking floorboards aplenty but upon closer inspection, Lacey found the grime and wear and tear to be seemingly decorative. As if the castle was simply playing a role.

She occasionally wiped a shelf off or swept away a cobweb only to return the next day and find it exactly as it had been. But since her room was always dust free and the kitchen was always immaculate, she simply marked it up to one of the Imp's oddities and ignored it.

Occasionally in her wandering, she had the unsettling feeling of being watched. The first time was when she had found a room stuffed with toys, puppets on strings and porcelain dolls mouths open in grimaces or as if to scream. She had picked up one to bat away the increasing discomfort running down her spine, weighing it before placing it back down with a scoff. But its eyes seemed to follow her around the room after that and she had quickly left, returning to her room where she locked the door quickly behind her.

She did not return to that room - not that it was declared off limits per se but the chill in the air - a sense of something not being quite right - got under her skin.

Later that same week, she had been exploring an interior greenroom of sorts. Lacey had been standing amongst the rosebushes and orchids when she had the distinct feeling of being in the midst of a crowded room. As if there was an invisible throng surrounding her, staring at her.

Similar to the toy room, it was not the castle's growingly familiar presence but something different- more aware of her - almost as if someone was watching from the shadows.

She shrugged this suspicion off, figuring her host had better things to do with his time than spy on his unwanted houseguest but she left the odd greenroom all the same and did not return.

Lacey was right of course. The Imp had much more on his mind than worrying about the girl roaming his halls.

But she didn't know that yet.

* * *

Despite both their best efforts to stay out of each other's way, the castle seemed to have other ideas. Shortly after Lacey discovered the green room, the castle began to increase its efforts to throw the two of them together.

Books would disappear from Lacey's room, reappearing on tables of rooms she had subconsciously labeled as _His_. She would often find him glowering at her door, holding a dog-eared copy of her current selection.

_("What is this meddlesome thing doing mixed in with my potion ingredients? It nearly contaminated my entire collection of toad jelly!" "Honestly, girl, do you think my desk is your own personal bookshelf?" "Is there a reason you continue to lose your belongings in my personal vicinity or are you just determined for me to read _TheHow to Guide: Being a Damsel in Distress _Without Ruining Your Dress?")_

Even her favorite pair of slippers had managed to walk out of her room before tucking themselves neatly under his spinner's wheel stool. She had been forced to stand awkwardly before him in her stocking feet while he had begrudgingly stopped to fetch them from underneath his seat.

_("Can't have you looming over me,"_ _he had grumbled, before she snatched the slippers out of his grasp, fuming at his obvious annoyance when it had been his magic at fault in the first place_.)

When she had finally shared her suspicions, the Imp had merely looked at her with one eyebrow raised in silent condescension before she stormed off, muttering curse words into the air.

She missed her host suddenly looking up with narrowed eyes at a day dress that had suddenly appeared in the rafters, dangling directly above him.

Lacey was glad to find that shortly after that confrontation, the magical disappearing act and inconvenient reappearing of her belongings ceased.

But she did not thank him for it.

* * *

Now, in the second month of her stay, Lacey, curious as well as bored, ceased reading the books about the Land of the Believers- putting aside a fairly interesting take on the pyramids and the Egyptians Gods- and began to look for information on Fae.

The bookshelf in her room proved unhelpful upon her request and she found herself wandering the halls, trying to locate other books that may shine light on the ways of this world.

The castle proved stubborn on this as well. Shelves of books she had sworn she had seen in her past wanderings were now completely void of books or parchments that looked promising were wiped blank when she looked closer.

It all finally came to a head one early evening when she kneeling on the floor in front of a cabinet, shifting through odds and ends to see if any books were hidden in the depths when she heard a mocking twitter behind her.

"Looking for something?" The Imp snidely inquired. Lacey glanced over her shoulder at him, blowing a piece of hair out of her face in exasperation, before peering back into the dark depths of the cabinetry.

"I'm trying-," she said through gritted teeth as something soft whispered over her bare forearm, " to find some information."

"Dangerous thing to look for when one doesn't know where to look," he commented merrily. She shook her head in reply, giving up the search and sitting back on her heels in disgust.

"I'm just trying to learn more about this… place," she said, frustration coloring her tone as she waved an arm to indicate the space around her. "You don't have to be so difficult, you know."

"I'm hardly being-" he began defensively before she cut him off, turning back to look at him with a smirk.

"I was talking to the castle, " Lacey clarified. He twisted his lips for a moment, an almost embarrassed reaction but he quickly covered it with a leer in her direction. She ignored it, turning back to her quest as she continued, "It's being deliberately unhelpful. All I want is to find some books on Fae-"

"The castle does as I bid it," he said, gesturing sharply to a nearby mantel clock which hands started to spin impressively in its shiny glass casing. He turned back to her with an arched brow, a silent '_See_?" all but spoken aloud.

"Is that why the tea cart keeps following you around when you don't eat?" Lacey fired back, getting to her feet.

"Whatever are you so curious about anyway?" He snapped, changing subjects adroitly. "You made it perfectly clear you can't wait to be returned to the bosom of your precious Emma's protection as soon as the year mark is up-" he paused, raising a clawed hand to his chin in thought before smiling devilishly. "Perhaps we can put a sleeping curse on you- wake you up when your safe and sound back in the woods!" She scowled at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest peevishly.

"I'm just curious to how this all works." She spread her hands out to indicate the castle itself. "Is it using the magical energy of its host, which I presume is you, or is it magical in itself and that's why you were drawn here?"

He didn't respond, quirking an eyebrow in confusion as she rambled on. "Well, that is if you didn't magic this place into existence- which completely changes my theory-"

It was only a moment later that she realized he had gone. The now swinging closed door silently but effectively finished her questioning.

* * *

The next day, Lacey continued looking for books on magic or Fae in general but the closest she got was more books on the Realm of the Believers- including an odd book with drawings of the Eiffel Tower, Empire State Building and the Washington Monument crudely expressing some parable on the fragility of the Believers males and their egos.

She had settled herself to read it, curious in spite of herself, in the large room off the main hallway, choosing the large love seat which was facing the large fireplace that took up half the back wall, closed and drawn curtains against the night sky giving it a dark and gloomy feel- one that fit her current mood spectacularly.

It was an unintentional but added bonus that the Imp seemed to be have planned on finishing some kind of project of his own in the room. He had entered shortly after she had made herself comfortable and stopped short, eyeing her uncertainty over the odds and ends of the hall's pedestal collection of knick knacks and artifacts.

His pride seemed to dictate he stay despite her being there first. She decided to try and pressure him into leaving by openly watching him, putting her book down in her lap to stare after him as he moved about the room. He ignored her, refusing to even acknowledge her presence, keeping his focus on the occasional object he would stop to stare at in silent thought.

After a few minutes of watching him do nothing more interesting than walk around the few pedestals gathering dust, Lacey's innate curiosity prompted her to ask, "Do you ever sleep?"

The Imp ignored her, continuing to stare at a small pedestal where a curved horn was resting, brass with heavy red lines drawn from the tip to the flared lip, spreading out like fire. She titled her head to peer around him, wrinkling her nose at the spots near the mouthpiece, which appeared flecked with blood.

When he declined to respond, Lacey closed her book with a decisive snap and stood. "I assume you sleep when I sleep but I wasn't sure if reptiles need as much sleep. I didn't pay much attention in biology. You see, Jimmy Litwell sat in front of me and well-"

"What are you prattling about?" He huffed, turning an eye away from the horn. "Jimmy Litwells- are those anything like those ridiculous 'hippo pots' you were trying to convince me exist the other day?"

"Hippopotamuses," she corrected. "And of course they exist. It's not like they're unicorns-"

"Of course, unicorns exist," he interrupted, snapping that sharp-toothed smile of his as he giggled at her. "But I suppose you wouldn't know that, would you? As they only appear to maidens who are pure of heart..."

"What exactly are you trying to say-"

Before Lacey could finish, a heavy ringing boom echoed down the hall to them. Surprised, she whipped her head around towards the door; taking a step forward just another loud boom followed the first.

"Are those the front doors?" She asked, moving past him to the open door towards the main hall. Before she could make the doorway, the Imp was suddenly in front of her, blocking the door and facing away from her with an odd look fixed on his pointed face.

"Run along now, dearie," he dismissed, closing the doors with a neat flick of his wrists. "Playtime's over."

Stepping back over to the table, he perched astride it, assuming a position of bored sangfroid. But Lacey noticed despite his calm demeanor, his fingers were fiddling absently with his cufflinks, the claws scratching the stiff leather jacket with a discordant tempo.

"But the doors-" she started, looking towards the hall in what was dangerously close to a pout.

"Now," he directed, eyes burning holes through her into the large door that led from the entrance hall. She opened her mouth to argue when she heard a familiar sound echoing towards them.

It was unmistakably the telltale click of high heels coming down the hall, strutting closer and closer to their location.

"Someone's here!" Lacey yelped, turning towards the noise with delight. He ignored her, his face calm and impassive but she felt the now familiar magic in the air tense slightly as the heels clicked ever closer. He glanced over at her with an exasperated expression as she started towards him. "Who is it? Can I-"

"Stay in your room until I come for you," Lacey opened her mouth to protest, when he clicked his fingers and she found herself coughing the now dreaded purple smoke, words lost in her coughing fit. By the time she caught her breath, her room now swimming drunkenly around her.

"Damn it," she snapped, childishly stomping her foot and throwing her hands down in defeated petulance. "You can't just send me to my room like I'm some sort of child!"

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, red faced and pouting and she closed her eyes in chagrin at her behavior. She took a breath and smoothed her hair down before she headed determinedly to the door. Grasping the handles, she gave a quick tug and almost hit her face against the wood when it refused to budge.

Lacey frowned at the brass knob, unused to her own room being difficult. Trying a different tactic, she went towards the window, but the shades snapped shut just as she approached it and refused to open to the night sky no matter how much she tugged at them. "Fine," she conceded ill naturedly, curling up in her armchair by the small mantle on the opposite wall of her bed. "I'll just sit here then."

It was then that she noticed her book from downstairs hadn't made the journey with her and she grumbled at the unfairness, slight as it was.

* * *

After an hour or so, her stomach cramping from her skipping her midnight meal, she started to wonder why the castle hadn't supplied her dinner yet. Usually if she skipped a meal, the plate would follow her room to room..

She was picking her cuticles peevishly when the door to her room suddenly opened, creaking slightly as it swung inwards. "Finally," she exclaimed, jumping up and heading out the door only to nearly collide with the Imp who was standing just outside. He mock frowned at her in reproof, dusting off his jacket daintily.

"Careful," he warned, waggling a lone finger. Fighting the urge to scream, Lacey pointedly raised her eyebrows at him, silently indicating he was in her way. "Oh, of course," he bowed at the waist, still stubbornly in her path and she exhaled with a sharp hiss to indicate her continuing displeasure.

Her questions came unbidden to her tongue but her gut advised her not to press him. _He's in a flippant mood; anything I tried to pry out of him will be half-truths or just insults_, she thought sullenly as he straightened, those odd yellow eyes fixing her in place with malicious glee. _No, a full fledge assault won't work but if I can distract him- _

"Dinner?" she asked abruptly. The Imp blinked rapidly in response, narrowing his eyes to look at her from under his lashes before opening and then closing his mouth in uncertainty. It was the most taken aback she had seen him to date. She continued on before he caught his footing, jokingly asking, "Or don't you eat?"

'I eat when hungry," he answered, that odd dry tone he sometimes used replacing the usual feminine trill of his mocking banter. "Usually the skin off the bones of my prisoners."

"Oh, do we have more boarders?" She replied, an impertinent grin spreading over her face. "How lovely, I thought we were quite alone."

He remained unimpressed, making a small dismissing noise in the back of his throat, "Can't have you thinking you're important now, dearie."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she answered smoothly, curtseying slighting before him. He dipped his head in acknowledgement and she stepped neatly around him, heading towards the kitchen.

She was mentally scoring one for the visiting team when he added, "By the way…"

Lacey slowed unwittingly, keeping her head high and turned away from him. _If he has something to say, let him say it to my back. _

"I will be leaving the castle to attend some business shortly. I should be back before you starve to death."

_Well then, _she turned and fixed him with a sugary sweet smile, crossing her arms across her chest. "I will strive not to miss your company too much, lord high and mighty," she answered primly. "I'll suppose I'll have to suffer through the sweet freedom of your absence."

He gazed after her, still standing outside her room, arms behind his back in a courtier's pose. "How nice to hear that," he cooed back at her, the stained and rotted teeth flashing as he spoke. "And here I was thinking of asking you to join me."

_Wait, what? _Lacey gaped before placing her smile carefully back in place like armor, trying to craft a response but he merely laughed and with a maddening click of his fingers, he was gone, purple smoke rushing towards her.

She pushed back at it, coughing roughly. _He knows I hate these damn noxious fumes_, she thought angrily, _and now he's sending them swirling towards me whenever he does his little disappearing trick_. _Real_ _Mature. _She stomped down to the kitchen, ignoring the usual oddities of paintings with swords marks through them or dented shields upon the wall.

_Treating me like some kid, sending me to my room when the guests comes. Honestly, like I can't handle myself - _Her footsteps weren't make the same satisfying click as heels tended to when a woman strides and she found herself stamping her foot harder and harder until the balls of her feet protested in the thin canvas shoes.

The kitchen door was ajar, light on when she rounded the corner. She clomped in, almost tripping backwards when she found the Imp sitting demurely at the smaller table, a napkin tied around his neck and a nearly empty bowl of soup in front of him.

"Hungry, dearie?" He asked, motioning to the other side of the table where another placemat was set, soup still steaming slightly from the blue bowl. A wedge of bread was tucked on the plate underneath it, the crust end. Her favorite.

_The absolute ass! He- _Lacey fought to calm herself, taking a deep breath.

She straightened her shoulders, sauntered around to the offered seat and settled herself. A goblet appeared beside her and in her distracted state, she took a large drink without glancing at it. Expecting water, she experienced a coughing fit when the thick and spicy beverage unexpectedly burned down her throat."What the-"Lacey coughed hoarsely, waving her hand in protest. "What is that-"

The toad was giggling. She tried to narrow her eyes at him in consternation but her eyes were watering too much and she coughed some more, trying to catch her breath. The liquid was heavy in her throat still, burning roughly down to her stomach.

"Thought you might enjoy something a little stronger," he twittered, raising his hands to temple over his soup bowl. "Why, don't you like it?"

"Delicious," she griped, taking another sip, this one slow and deep.

_It isn't bad_ she thought, trying not to cough again. The flavor had an alcoholic bite. She took another drink, longer this time. He was still watching her when she put her goblet down, wiping her lips before picking up her soupspoon.

"Nice of you to wait for me." She indicated his empty bowl, crumbs of bread around his plate. He shrugged, settling back in his chair.

"I did say, I eat when I'm hungry, time waits for no beast," he quipped, twittering his hands about as he laughed at his adage.

He was punishing her by making her sit through a meal with him and she was trying her best not to fidget nervously under his stare. She found most people liked talking about themselves, but she expected him to turn any questions into insults and fling them back at her. Blunt questioning seemed to give him some perverse enjoyment, a better way to get him to talk, open up, perhaps over share.

"Is this humor due to our unexpected guest?" She asked, trying to start some conversation. His watching her eat unnerved her, those snake eyes barely blinking in his attentiveness. "Who was that anyways?"

"No one of importance," he brushed her question away, flicking his hands out to dismiss it. She took another spoonful, the hot soup burning her mouth slightly. She swallowed it, pointing the spoon at him in accusation.

"Really? So, that's why you sent me to my room and then locked the door?"

He offered a shrug, jerking his shoulders in an exaggerated show of defeat. "Certain people feel they can just walk into my house whenever these please," he confided, picking imaginary lint of his sleeve. "I didn't want them prying into my affairs when they were luckily too busy focusing on their own. Some people," he wrinkled his nose at her in obvious amusement," are too nosy for their own good."

"Was it a woman?" She pressed again, ignoring the dig directed at her

"Why ever would you ask that?" He sputtered, looking at her as if she had grown another head.

Lacey felt herself grin involuntary, pointing at him over the table and crowing, "Oh my God, it _was_, wasn't it?!"

He twisted his head from her, crossing his arms in a defensive maneuver, eyeing the fire with a glower. "You continue to reference this God fellow like he's some sort of friend of yours-"

"You had a female caller, didn't you?" She laughed, settling back in her chair and grinning at him. He was hunched protectively in his chair, teeth bared slightly in annoyance. "Was it a social call or-"

He interrupted her with a low growl, "An old apprentice of mine, again no one of importance."

She stopped her bantering, taking another long sip of her mead, feeling it spread through her chest. _I'm actually enjoying myself, _she realized but she waved it away. Her host was in an unusual mood and she was merely taking advantage of it.

"A student?" She fished, finishing the wedge of bread, soaking it in the remnants of the soup. It had been a light dinner and she was still hungry. She took another sip of her mead, she was too busy needling her companion to care or notice how much she was actually drinking.

"A long time go," he looked over at her, before taking a slow double take, a grin spreading across his face. She ignored it, taking another drink, settling herself more firmly against the high back of her chair.

"What did you teach?" His response was lazily twisting a finger in the air between them- a long golden sparkle shooting from it, rocketing into the depths of the kitchen ceiling, lighting the low hanging iron chandelier there, illuminating the kitchen fully. She laughed, clapping her hand to her forehead at her stupidity. "Of course, magic." Her eyes followed the glowing sparks as they continued to float on the air, dripping down like streamers as they faded away.

She looked back down from the sparkling display, eyes bright and slightly glassy. She felt the odd warmth in her cheeks that usually signified she had had four martinis but she had barely had any of her drink, it was still almost completely full- "Oh," she mumbled distractedly, peering into her goblet with a sinking feeling. "Does this keep refilling like the water goblets?"

He giggled and she looked back up to give him a scolding retort when she found herself inexplicably laughing too. He cocked his left brow at her and she started to giggle harder, sucking her lip in her mouth trying to stop.

He waggled his other brow and she lost it, stuffing her hands to her mouth in mortified glee, squeezing her eyes shut, tears leaking out slightly. "Stop it this instant," she ordered, giggling around the words. "You got me drunk when I was supposed to be questioning you about your lady friend-"

"No friend of mine," he sang, dusting his hands and standing from the table. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should be gathering my things before the sun rises-"

"Where are you going?" She blurted, taking another sip. He eyed the goblet sharply; looking at her with a familiar expression most bartenders gave her when she got the giggles. She picked up the goblet and held it protectively to her chest, eyeing him back. "I'm just asking to be polite, is all," she said defensively, taking another drink.

"Why, dearie," he teased, placing his hands on the table and leaning closer to her. "I didn't realize you cared." He threw his hands over his heart, blinking appealingly at her. She snorted into her cup, taking another drink.

"What if your friend comes back? Am I to hide again?" He grew suddenly serious and she found her goblet disappearing from her grip. Her stifled protest was cut short as he suddenly was directly beside her. She twisted her back away from him, almost sliding out of her seat and promptly overbalancing, flailing a bit as she felt herself slide out of her seat but he reached down and grabbed her wrist with one clawed hand- stilling her.

It was the first time they had touched. She found her eyes going wide, looking down at his grip in open panic. They had never been this close before and she found herself feeling trapped and the urge to lash out swelled as years of human instinct kicked in at the danger she suddenly found herself in.

Despite the spike in adrenaline, she couldn't help but notice while his hand was not cold or leathery like she had anticipated; it was not a warm human hand either. It seemed to shift; the colors of his skin were pulsating, something underneath the scales ever moving and shifting.

_More chameleon than snake_ _then…_

He had never physically hurt her before but he had violence in him, that same reactionary latent energy lurking in him that she saw in so many other powerful men in her time reporting politics and business circles.

But he only righted her, his hand releasing her wrist as suddenly as he had grabbed it. He looked away for a moment in resentment and she wondered if he had noticed her increased heart rate and shallow breathing. She tried to calm it, she even tried to tell herself it had been more surprise than alarm but she couldn't deny he frightened her. His mercurial moods and sharp claws were terrifying despite her bravado.

"If anyone tries to enter or leave the castle in my absence, they will cease to exist," he rumbled, turning his eye down on her. "If any of my 'friends' were to find you here, you would quickly find how dear the protection your friend Emma purchased for you is to your wellbeing. "

She gave a short nod, the warmth of her buzz sliding messily into nausea in the pit of her stomach. Her nightmares, not as frequent but still lurking rising up in the magical glow of his earlier display - _the glowing heart beating in the darkness, the sickening crunch it had made when it crumbled into pieces in Regina's hand, the way Graham had fallen like a puppet whose string had been cut-_

"Then, perhaps the next time you feel the need to pry into things that do not concern you, you will think about how insignificant a mere Believer is in the realm of the Fae." His words were curt and clipped, spoken evenly in his horrid voice, eyes fixed on the crown of her head. She sat below him, trying to focus on the wood of the table and not the memories burning in her mind's eye. Her nightmares were still full of Graham's blank eyes, Emma's sword and the witch's blood red smile, her captor's giggle playing underneath like a sound track on some horror movie.

She felt ill, chills tracing her arm in the summer night. She woodenly continued to stare at the tabletop. Finally, she managed," I think I will be heading for bed."

He gave a slight dour laugh, backing up and bending at the waist. "Good evening, my lady," he offered contemptuously and she stood stiffly, walking out the door, trying not to stumble. "I'll be gone when you wake," he added and she nodded, continuing her path to her room, angry and afraid and confused and tired all at the same time.

* * *

Four days passed in the Dark Castle without its master.

One morning, she tried to stay up during the day, curious to as what Fae looked like in the sunlight but conked out in the heat before the sun was in the middle of the sky, waking up right as the second moon rose to join its brother. She tried again the next night but when her efforts ended in the same result, she ceased. She wasn't sure if it was magically induced or if her biological clock was determined to stay on her own world's time but she had no strong desire to continue her lethargic attempts to see the day.

The Castle was stifling, even at night, a summer heat wave cloying and heavy. Lacey had taken to lounging in her underwear in her room, drapes closed in the moonlight since the windows were still magically sealed shut. When out in the corridors and halls, she wore a light blouse and the lightest skirt she could find. She deemed it was probably a petticoat or a slip, the cotton almost faded and see-through in some spots but it was too hot to care.

According to her body's internal clock, time seemed to pass the same here in Fae. Her menses had occurred twice, her only way of tracking the time passing with any certainty. She had found the castle had both times left her cotton rags which disappeared the second she set them aside, a new one taking its place.

She hated them. She tried to will a tampon into existence but the Fae world apparently just wasn't there yet.

When her second cycle stared during the Imp's absence, she spent about an hour grumbling angrily before curling up on her bed with cramps, puffing in air and punching her pillows in frustrated discomfort.

On the fifth day of his absence and the second day of her courses, she was curled in a ball, biting her lip and trying to remember Zen breathing when she heard footsteps outside her door.

A ringing knock tripped upon the door but she was pleased to find that the door didn't open for the master of the castle. She had been worried he could and would open it after the power display incident during their guest's visit but it appeared if she didn't want it to open, it wouldn't.

"Dearie," he called irritation in his voice. "Let's not play games, shall we?"

"Go away," she ordered, curling in on herself, trying to massage the knots out of her stomach. She bit her lip as another cramp hit her hard, leaving her wincing.

No answer came and she released her breath, relieved he had gotten the message and left.

But she felt the buildup of magic in her room, reaching out and touching her with its clammy invisible fingers and she yelped in outraged shock. "Get your magic out of my room this instant, you beast!" She managed, her head falling back on to her bed with a whimper of pain. Her time was always rough and she wasn't the most…stable of people during it.

"You are ill?" Came the reaction from the other side of the door, a hesitatingly uncertainty around the edges.

"No need for concern," she groused. "Just go back to your spinning thing- wheel, whatever."

"I can't keep you healthy if you don't tell me when you are ill," replied the voice, his irritation at her growing. She gave a slight exhaled breath of disbelieved outrage at his unwanted persistence. She picked herself up from the ball on her bed, walked stiffly to the door and threw it open.

He was standing, his travel cloak on, boots sandy and gritty and a scowl across his ugly face. _He must have come directly up here…_She felt her dirty hair slick to her cheek and she battered it back, drawing her dressing robe around her tighter.

"I'm fine," she seethed at him, dizzy from her sudden standing. The closed curtains behind her and the stuffy air of her room made him raise an eyebrow at her in silent commentary. "Just leave me alone for a few days and if you have any chocolate in this castle, tell the damn pantry fairies to give it to me or I swear to God-"

Recognition flared in his cold-blooded eyes but he didn't smirk. _Lucky for him_, Lacey thought darkly. If she saw the hint of a smile on his face she was going to tempt whatever dark magic forces he wielded by smacking it off of him.

He raised his hands in ceasefire, backing from her room before walking away down the hall. She slammed the door behind her, curling back up on the bed. "Men," she growled into her pillow. She tried to turn a few different times to get comfortable before she noticed she was cooling down slightly.

There was now inexplicably a slight breeze in her room. She picked her head up from the pillow, lifting the canopy curtains up and found her window seat drapes blowing gently in a summer breeze.

"Fine," she allowed, refusing to be grateful for his small favor of unlocking a window four stories up from the ground. As she tucked her canopy open so the breeze could flow in the suffocating room, she noticed a small bottle of blue, caped with a small "Drink Me" on the label. Next to it, were a tea pot and the chipped cup from their one and only tea experience, sugar and creamer in heavy supply and a large amount of actual real life chocolate piled on a plate nearby. "Show off," she groused, but she made herself the tea, inspecting the capped bottle before deciding it was medicine of some kind. She ate half the chocolate before taking the medicine before she could talk herself out of it.

An hour later, Lacey was fast asleep, her cramps gone and her headache forgotten. She slept for the rest of the night and day and when she woke up in the evening, her courses had almost ceased.

She went to the washroom to clean up, still mourning the loss of tampons.

She didn't say thank you.

* * *

Now nearing the end of her second month, Lacey was roaming the hallways, looking up at what she assumed to be a head of a lizard when the Imp rounded the corner. She nodded to him, offering a small curtsey out of humor and was amused when he offered a short bow in return.

She wordlessly held out the seeds she had been munching on. He shook his head, strolling up to her and looking up at the snakehead. "What is it?" She asked, popping another seed in her mouth. "Relative of yours?"

The Imp chuckled darkly, eyes fixed above them on the glassy empty stare. "A basilisk, actually, the King of Snakes."

"Impressive, "she muttered, completely ignorant of what a basilisk was.

"Not really," he said in his nasal tone, the high-pitched tone coming out quickly. "Not too hard to kill when you use mirrors."

She dipped her head in agreement, still not sure what they were talking about. She moved on to the right, tracing a coat of arms with her fingertips. "You like touching things," he noted, picking her fingertips off the etchings with his fingertips, careful to keep the clawed nails off her skin, "despite my frequent warnings that most everything in this castle is cursed, spelled or capable of turning you into a statue."

She shrugged, the unnecessary contact disturbing her. They had become more familiar these past weeks, an uneasy alliance between the two- based of mutual dislike and mistrust- had formed but was usually tense with both parties understanding the boundaries. Touching was one of those boundaries. She had thought that was clear after their shared meal together in the kitchen.

She gave him a sharp look; fully aware she probably shouldn't be touching odd things. She wandered away, eager to put some space between them. "While I have you here," he called after her, causing her to slow her steps, turning her head disinterested back at him. "I was wondering if your earlier offer in "working" for your keep was still on the table? It would also allow you to learn more about Fae in the bargain, that is, if you re still interested…?"

"You want to make a deal?" she asked, fighting back her astonishment. He nodded, eyes staying locked on hers in the deep nod of his head, chin going to his chest. "With me?" she clarified, fully aware she had nothing of real value to offer him.

"No, dearie, the chimera head you're standing under," he commented and she only just avoided glancing up. He raised his head from its deep nod, eyes jumping in barely suppressed glee.

"You like making deals," she figured, crossing her arms in front of her, giving her time to think.

"No secret there," he pointed out, gesturing to himself with his long claws. "All magic comes with a price, dearie!"

"What does that have to do with me?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "I can't do magic."

"Ah, but you can be affected by it, even encourage it," he replied, eyeing the seeds in her hand.

A flicker of understanding dawned to her and she looked down at the food in her hand. "So, my staying here in the castle-"

"Has tipped the scales of magic usage more than significantly, it seems some people are beginning to take note of the Dark Castle's stirring."

"And you need to get me out of here before people come looking for what you are up to?" she hazarded a guess, twisting to look at the dark hall behind her. "So, I would get to leave the castle?" She asked neutrally, careful to keep any emotion out of her voice.

The Imp bobbed his head back and forth in a pantomime of thinking, his eyes rolled up to the ceiling. "I suppose," he finally replied, crossing his arm over his chest, his free hand framing his chin. "But only on my business. The deal would be a vow of loyalty to me for the remainder of the year, any trespasses or betrayals would bring about a very sticky end."

"But you need me to get access to my world-"she pointed out, trying to figure out the benefit in it for him. The monster had never shown interest in anything for anyone other than himself. Lacey knew reporters like him, people who seemed to give leads, but were really fishing for something deeper, playing the other party to get to their end goal. "If I double crossed you, my negligence on our deal would cancel your deal with Emma."

He bared his teeth at her in the facsimile of a smile, hunching his shoulders in an ironic shrug. "I suppose I count on your self-preservation interests to avoid that scenario," he countered.

"And if I make this deal," Lacey managed, eyeing him and trying to find the loophole before the conversation ended. "What freedoms would I be allowed?'

"You would have the ability to come and go as you please on our trips, your only duties would be ones you accept from me- otherwise you would be expected to sit quietly wherever I deem fit for the time being, not asking questions and being satisfied you aren't being eaten alive by ogres."

She blanched at the threat of ogres but the idea of getting out of the castle was too good to pass up. Ogres be damned. "And if I make this bargain what do you have in mind? Carrying your bags? Sewing buttons on your travel cloak?"

"Actually," he said, smiling broadly with his crocodile grin. "I was hoping for your help with a little mermaid."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Sorry about the long wait in between chapters! Between work, weddings and weekend traveling, I haven't been able to sit down and work on this chapter nearly enough but here it is! As Lacey continues to cope with her current situation without losing her mind or nerve, I hope everyone enjoys the little snippets we get as her and Rumple began to interact- again, this is a different fairy tale than OuaT but one that I have no doubt will get just as interesting as we continue to learn about Fae through Lacey. **

**Wanted to say welcome to Quiet Moon, TheGirlWithManyDreams, tibys, pugsleys mom, ZizhunWriter and Relliurad!**

**I also wanted to take a moment to thank Hikari no Chibi for her wonderful and thoughtful reviews. I know the first few chapters of this are a little shaky and I hope to go back in time and rework and restructure based on the overall feel of the story as I continue to develop it. Some of your comments on timeline and characterization helped me make sure I was watching that as I continued with forward with the story . Thanks for reviewing with constructive criticism- it is always appreciated!**

**And to Kiri Huo Ziv- I promise we will learn more about Emma in time- but Lacey isn't there yet- she's still trying to cope with being in a topsy turvy world and she's still getting her footing. This is a slow burn fic- but I hope it will make it more realistic and enjoyable as the story continues. **

**Thanks to you all for reading! Again no beta reader, so it's me and spell check- feel free to DM me with any errors and I'll fix them and give shout outs to the eagle eyed. **

**\- B**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 **

_The cold was back. Curling around her ankles and climbing up her legs towards her chest- _

_Snow was falling thick around her, clumping in her hair as her breath rose in heavy clouds as proof of life in an otherwise dead forest-_

_No, it wasn't dead. It was asleep._

_Emma was there but dressed in a full gown of golden brocade. Her arms and shoulders bared to the cold. She was as white as the snow, her usually sun-bright hair turning darker in the shadows of the trees. She wasn't breathing._

_Lacey took a step away from her, having an overwhelming desire to turn and flee but something was blocking the path. She tumbled backwards, hands reaching up to the snow filled sky as she fell backwards, further down than possible in an agonizing slow motion tumble before she fell finally in the snow bank that had formed behind her._

_Emma was still laying lifeless as a doll discarded by a distracted child. Lacey's eyes fell against what had tripped her- eyes falling on a snow covered lump, a long pale white hand poking out- the familiar badge of Sheriff Graham sparkling in the dim dawn light, having fallen out of its grasp in her tumble._

_He was dead. _

_They were all dead, she thought wildly. And I'm next._

_Then a laugh- a low throaty chuckle that seemed to be coming from all around. It continued as she looked around wildly, getting louder and louder when suddenly a murder of crows burst from the trees- bare branches turning into a storm of birds- taking flight before circling down towards her. _

_Their black feathers mingled with the snow as it fell onto her upturned face and then just as the laughter suddenly ceased- _

_They dived._

Jerking awake, Lacey's eyes flew open as the nearest crow's talons reached out for her eyes- but nothing was there.

The summer day was fading, the sun having set but the stars were still coming out. Her window was open, curtains still as death in the humidity of the day's heat. She reached down to wipe the sweat pooling on the back of her neck, clammy and damp.

Her pillow and sheets were soaked so she threw the thin sheet she had fallen asleep under off her, rolling out of the damp patch she had been tossing in all night. She reached to pull her shift over her head when a sudden banging at her door startled her into knocking over the pitcher of water that had magically appeared on her nightstand.

"For fuck's sake," she hissed, reaching instinctively to pick it up before it flooded her bedroom. But the water had barely hit the floor when it disappeared, a new pitcher appearing over on the other side of the room on her small round table, as if that new perch was a safer choice.

The banging continued. It had an odd rhythm to it, as if someone was amusing themselves with how her door sounded when hit in various spots with different tempos and force.

The nightmare was fading but her heart was still racing. The continuous banging and the fast approaching headache from the noise drove her to the door, pulling the damp shift away from her skin as best she could.

"What, in God's name, could you possibly want-" She yelled, flipping the door open to find the Imp standing a few feet back, self amused grin firmly in place. His eyes flicked down to her sweat soaked gown for a moment before they were swallowed back up in the squint of his crocodile smile.

"Time to get up!" He crowed, crooking his fingers in a come hither motion. "Can't sleep the whole night away, you lazy thing!"

He didn't even wait for her before turning on his heel and heading down the stairs. Lacey was left puzzled for a moment, standing in the doorway staring after him when he turned and huffed at her.

"Haven't got all night, you know," he remarked, tilting his head at her in challenge. She glanced behind her towards the water basin but the castle seemed to be on his side this time. The water pitcher had disappeared and a silken robe was hanging on the back of the door now, swaying slightly with the force of its sudden appearance. She grabbed it, pulling it on with two short tugs and flipped her hair over the collar. She glanced down to the left of the door and found her slippers waiting for her- despite her leaving them by the bed's edge the night before. She toed them on before closing the door behind her.

The Imp had gone on but she knew where he would be. She made her way to the room they had taken tea together once before- a study of sorts for him- finding him standing at the table's edge, glancing down at papers with a gleam in his yellow eyes.

"It's barely dusk," she complained, entering the room while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "What exactly is it that couldn't wait until proper evening?"

"Come see!" was his only answer and she rolled her eyes as she joined him at the table. It was cooler in the room despite the drawn and curtained windows. She expected he had noticed her earlier discomfort and had adjusted the temperature but she didn't remark on it, just twisted her hair to the side to let the cooler air touch the overheated skin at the back of her neck.

Maps sprawled across the table before him, some on yellowed parchment others on crystal white cloth. Others were a rainbow of color, shifting like his skin did when she looked closely. She walked to the other side of the table, pushing her hair out of her face as she leaned down to look closer.

Fae was spread out before her.

She reached out to trace the closest map's coastline, rocky and jutting out into a blue swirling mix of color that represented an ocean. She tilted her head to read upside down- the white and green text that declared it the Sea of Silence.

Lacey glanced back at the land mass- half hidden under other maps. She tipped them away gently, revealing a large mass of land- labeled the Seventh Realm.

The land itself was spread out in a crescent shape, a large bay -Fiona's Bay - was cradling it with a dozen peninsulas sticking out the south sides, like fingers reaching out into the far off ocean. She studied it for a few moments, trying to spot their current location when she realized what was bothering her.

"Where are the mountains?" she asked, turning the map to face him, pushing it towards him. He looked up from the map of blue he was studying, which she decided was a larger map of the Sea of Silence, giving her an odd look.

"There aren't any mountains in the Seventh Realm." Dismissing her succinctly, he went back to his private study- long fingers tracing a pattern of some sort. Under his touch, the map appeared to undulate like waves on the paper.

"But I saw them," she insisted, peering back down at it. "When I came in from the Gate- we were by a lake bed and the-"

"Dearie," he growled in his deceptively pleasant singsong voice, not looking back up. "I'm trying to focus."

Lacey twisted her lips, chewing her cuticles absently as she peered closer at the map. She glanced over at him periodically, and saw the briefest movement in the left quarter of his map, a ripple effect falling after it.

"How are you doing that?" she asked, abandoning her map and moving back over to him. He looked up distractedly as her robe bottom swept over his leg and he pushed the map over towards her, squaring it between them.

"Magic, dearie," he giggled, waving his fingers obstinately. She gave him a glare but let the condescending remark pass. She leaned back down; looking at the map before reaching across to grab the one she had been looking at before.

"You're tracking something?" Lacey asked, noting the lines he had been following. One purple line was heading towards the bay area. The other was a sickly black color, which periodically vanished and then restarted inches away from where it had stopped.

"Two things." He pointed at the purple line, "This one is your concern. Our little mermaid friend is heading towards shore."

Lacey snorted. The idea of actually seeing a mermaid somehow felt more ridiculous to her than her current predicament of being stuck with a monster in his castle. He frowned at her, obviously perplexed at her reaction.

"Sorry," she shrugged, rubbing her nose. "It's just a little funny, that's all."

"Quite," he drawled, making it clear it wasn't. She cleared her throat, going back to the map.

"So, why is she heading towards the bay? Do mermaids live there?"

He shook his head, "Mermaids live in the deepest part of the ocean, deep in the depths. Why, the last mermaid sighting by a mortal was over three hundred years ago and I only know that because I happened to be the one who helped him find one."

Lacey swung her head up to regard him at this, tracing the lines in his face. She had never thought how old the beast was- he had seemed ageless but now she wondered. She saw a few lines around his eyes and mouth but those looked more of a middle-aged man than that of a centuries old sorcerer.

"You look good for your age," she said in a matter of fact tone. He ignored her, tapping his clawed hand back to the map. She wanted to provoke him more but a quick glance at his frowning face warned her otherwise and she returned to the topic at hand. "So, why is it going towards land then?"

"Because, this one just so happens to be in love with a prince."

Lacey raised her eyebrow and the Imp giggled in response. "How does our fishy friend know a prince?" Lacey wondered, standing up from her leaning position as she stifled a yawn. She made herself comfortable by settling down in a chair.

"The Seventh Kingdom's Prince Eric is of marriageable age." A pot of tea appeared by her elbow as she sat, and she poured it out as the Imp spoke, nodding politely to the castle for its thoughtfulness. She offered a cup to the Imp who waved it away without looking at it. "He has just finished his tour of the kingdoms-"

"What?" She interrupted, pulling the map of the land closer. "Why travel by sea when he could just-"

He released a peeved sigh, "Well, he can't very well travel to the far realms on foot without it taking years, mmm?"

"Wait- there's other realms?" Lacey asked excitedly, grabbing for another map and nearly spilling her teacup in the process. "Like mine?"

"Yours-"he said pointedly, flicking a hand out to still the slightly teetering teacup in its saucer. "Is not part of the other kingdoms. Yours is a mystical realm which most do not know about and which no one willingly seeks."

"Except you," she pointed out.

"Yes, well I'm a special case," he grinned, displaying his terrible smile to her. She looked away, looking across the table for other maps but just the Seventh Realm and ocean charts lay before her.

"How many realms are there here in Fae?"

He was scratching his neck distractedly, before checking his claws for sharpness with his fingertips. "Nine in all," he said, sharpening his index one on his hide more roughly. Ignoring him, Lacey looked back to the map, trying to determine the overall size of the Seventh Kingdom if it was part of nine.

Suddenly, the Imp was collecting his maps up from underneath her, ignoring her squawked protest. "Back to the issue at hand, if we can, dearie?" Taking her sullen silence for agreement, he rattled on. "Now, Prince Eric has returned from his tour, with no eligible princess in mind. Which was lucky for them considering on his return trip, a- well let's say- _storm_ hit the royal banner ship while the rest of the fleet was miraculously spared. His Grace's ship sank with only a few survivors..."

"A storm?" Lacey asked, noticing his emphasis on the word.

"I may have helped," he thought aloud, wrinkling his brow in thought. "Can't really say."

She felt the odd twist in her gut. Her protector was an evil thing; she recognized darkness in him despite the chillingly jovial laughter in his voice but his random callous confession made her feel wrong- like she was tainted by association.

She was agreeing to help him after all, which that nagging little voice in her head reminded her. She tried to ignore that truth, burying it under her relief of getting out of the magic infested jail for a few days. It worked rather well. She stood from her seat, walking towards the windows to put some distance between them.

"Well, lucky for Prince Eric, a young mermaid just happened to be nearby. She rescued the handsome prince from the perils of the sea, delivering him to safety to nearby rocks where his crew found him unconscious the next morning. The fleet remaining headed home with the Prince none the wiser of how he managed to survive."

"He doesn't remember being saved by a mermaid?" Lacey asked incredulously, tracing the dusty curtains.

"He was a wee bit unconscious, dearie," The Imp continued. "But our poor mermaid followed the ship to its destination, and is now heading towards the bay in the hope of seeing him again. Sickening, isn't it?" Lacey privately agreed but she shrugged, fiddling with the curtains. "Stop that," he snapped, waving her back towards the table. When he was satisfied her had her full attention again, he continued.

"Now, Prince Eric still needs a wife, so the Seventh Kingdom is holding a ball for three nights where every eligible noble woman of birth may attend to vie for his attention."

"And why exactly are you getting involved in this doomed love story?" Lacey asked, sarcasm coloring her tone. "Or are you just a fan of true love all of a sudden?"

He made a little eh noise, waving his hand in dismissal.

"I am in need of a very precious, rare ink that is only found in the darkest trenches of the ocean. I may have an understanding with the Sea Goddess that any attempt by myself to enter her realm may be met by a bit of unpleasantness."

Lacey was staring at him, trying to process. "There's a Sea Goddess?" She finally laughed, "like a real one?"

"Well, she's more of a sea witch," the Imp grumbled, ill naturedly. "But she has the allegiance of the sea creatures and most of the Seventh Kingdom so I tend to stay out of her way when I can help it."

"Right," Lacey mustered, shaking her head in clouded disbelief. "So, if you can't get the ink yourself-"

"I have you convince our little friend to get it for you," he finished, hands spreading before him to make his point.

"And how the hell am I going to do that?" She asked, shaking her head. "How am I going to find this mermaid much less convince her to get me a bag of magic squid ink?"

He held up the wooden box, flipping it open. A gleam from the candles on the table glittered in response and she drew closer, looking down into the depths of the box.

"Why with this," he answered. Lacey recognized the golden bauble she had seen on her first day shining up at her. Perfectly polished, the bracelet had a delicate catch, lying open and waiting on a azure cushion.

"I thought you said that was deadly?" She accused him, eyes flashing up at him in annoyance.

"I said things in here _could_ be deadly," he corrected, fixing her with that unnerving grin. She huffed in response, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.

"What exactly does it do?" She asked. His eyes sparkled, reflecting gold in the candlelight and she knew it was the right question

"This will give the wearer legs to walk upon our shores under the moon's domain. With it, she will be able to attend the ball as an eligible woman of birth- with your assistance of course."

"I'm attending the ball as well?" She inquired; pushing back the memories of the last time she had dressed as a princess, the screaming of the kelpie ringing faintly in her ears.

"You do have the tiara still, don't you?" She leveled her gaze at him, annoyed he knew she was keeping it safe.

"I'm supposed to pretend to be Emma?"

"Nonsense," he blustered. "Everyone knows Princess Emma of the Fourth Kingdom is at the Gate. Scandalous behavior of hers, news of it spread all over the kingdoms. But- not to say that you couldn't be the next in line to the throne in her absence- no one really knows about succession lines outside their own kingdoms, boring stuff."

"Fine- let's say I do manage to convince a royal family believe I'm a princess. How am I going to find the mermaid?" Lacey asked, pointing out the hole in his plan. "If she's a mermaid, there's no way for her to come to shore and I'm not much of a swimmer-"

"Our friend has found a cove under the palace, impossible to get to by sea due to the reefs and since it's on royal land, only castle residents can visit it. Thus, as a guest of the Gala, you would be able to gain access to the castle, before taking a beach side stroll to their cove, where I'm sure a very curious young mermaid will answer your calling."

"Great, I'm tricking a fish into trusting me to help her trick a man into marrying her," Lacey snorted. "How romantic."

"We should get going," he noted, waving his hands and the maps disappeared in a small burst of smoke. "Run along and get dressed."

She left, heading towards her room with this new information on her mind. In her time here, Lacey had become overly interested in the realm she had been exiled to. While she disliked it with its quiet loneliness and the magic that seemed to cloud everything, clinging to clothing and catching in your throat, she had the innate curiosity of a journalist and it sat ill with her she knew nothing beyond the way to and from the kitchen.

But now, the idea of going out into the world- the very chance of talking to someone other than the Imp! She felt her feet move faster, her excitement spurning her on.

She got to her room, pushing her door open to find a large trunk by the window, cracked open, empty. Lacey hesitated for a moment before choosing to ignore it, heading to the wardrobe and pulling it open.

A single pink gown hung there, cotton fabric with white stripes trailing down the sleeves. It was a different cut than what she had been wearing, the waist more pronounced, drawn in to give her a more flattering figure and the bust line scooped low, cut in a more square shape. She eyed it for a minute, found it lacking and closed the doors before reopening them.

The dress remained but now all her other dresses and shifts were missing.

"Fine," she acceded, reaching in for the dress. "But I'm going to need a bra for this one."

Slipping out of her gown and nightdress, Lacey went to slip on the pink dress when she noticed a corset of sorts lying neatly on her bed. It was cream, boned with cream ribbons and eyelets on the back of it. She gave her wardrobe a dirty look but wrapped it carefully around her torso, clutching it to her breasts and taking a deep breath.

"Go ahead," she prompted, and a whoosh of magic curled up her spine making her shiver as it laced up the corset neatly. It left just enough room to breathe normally but it was drastically uncomfortable.

Once she was sure the magic had finished, she released a shudder she had been holding back. Drawing up the petticoat slip she usually wore in the heat of the summer when she didn't feel like getting dressed, tying it neatly at her waist before she stepped into the pink gown.

She slid it over her arms, arranging it, her stomach protesting as she tried to bend over to arrange the skirts around her slip when she felt the familiar tingle and the buttons on the back flew closed, tickling the nape of her neck.

With a small nod to the magic for its assistance, as uncomfortable as it was, she reached for her brush to comb out her hair. Lacey understood the fashion of this land seemed to call for lady maids, which she obviously lacked. She had occasionally stared at The Imp's leather scaled jackets and breeches, wondering idly how comfortable they could be or how long it took him to get dressed.

"Shoes?" Lacey managed, turning back to the wardrobe, which still sat empty. She glanced around the floor, finding a pair of cream boots by her sitting chair. She carefully sat, noticing the pink fabric was more durable than her usual dresses; it bunched and gathered but didn't hold wrinkles. She laced up the ankle high boots, the corset digging into her ribs at the bent over position.

She left the suitcase where it lay, gaping empty under the window, heading downstairs to the Trophy Room where the tension of magic was swirling, occasionally sticking to her skin. She brushed the tendrils away, side stepping heavy pockets in the hallway where the air felt heavy and thick.

She waltzed back into the trophy room, noticing her skirts were more voluminous than her usual dresses and made a satisfactory swish noise when she rolled her hips. She sashayed across the room, enjoying the dip of her skirts around her feet as she neared the Imp.

He was sitting at the table still, eyes narrowed in thought over the wooden box. She stopped short, unsure what the plan was now; idly noting the teapot had been removed but the cup she had poured for him was still waiting for him to indulge, the magic keeping the liquid warm in the night air.

"Want me to open a window?" She finally said, tired of waiting for him to acknowledge her. She walked towards the closest shuttered window. "Get some air flow in here for you?"

"Are you ready?" He asked, snapping the box closed and standing.

"Not sure," she replied, standing under the window and looking up at the two story curtains that covered it. "My wardrobe is being difficult."

"Oh, yes that," he said, bouncing his head in thought. "I've decided to have you be another victim of the storms raging at sea, stumbling into town, lost and alone, no one by your side. The Prince's mother is a romantic at heart; she'll love the idea of harboring a young princess who has lost all her crew."

"No one is going to find it weird a foreign princess is the only one who survived a supposed shipwreck?" Lacey sat carefully on the arm of the large wingback chair by the mantle.

"Where have you been dearie?" He laughed mockingly. "In all the story tales in your world, the beautiful good hearted always prevail over the evil of the world, isn't that right?"

Lacey frowned, recognizing his obvious insinuation that would not apply to her in any world and he laughed in delight realizing his jab had hit home.

"Well, lucky for us, dearie," he cackled. "You aren't really in any danger; I'll be pulling all the strings. You'll just have to play the part of the virtuous princess, but I have faith in you."

Lacey twisted her head from him, annoyed. She knew she was a bit of a handful. She had always used her smarts or okay sometimes her looks when the situation called for it. So, she hadn't shied away from playing dirty to get where she needed to be. So what? Why should she be ashamed of that? She used what she had- and she didn't make apologizes for it. So why, now, in this land of magic and monsters- was she letting some lizard judge her?

Her time in Storybrooke had been odd at first, playing the sweet hearted naïve little girl. It had been cloying mostly and now it seemed she was being asked to play that role again. It bothered her but she forced it down. It was just pretend, she reminded herself. Nothing here is real.

"Now, the final thing-"he said, interrupting her guilty thoughts. "You'll need a name."

Unbidden, Mo's voice trailed through her head- 'Good luck, Lacey"…the last time she had heard anyone say her real name had been the night in the parking garage.

The name Lacey French seemed as distant now in the odd room as her dream had been this morning. The monster blinked at her in the candlelight, waiting for her to speak.

"And why wouldn't I use my real name?" She asked, meeting his eye steadily.

"Names have power, dearie," he warned. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that?"

It dawned on her that they had never used each other's names. She had thought he was simply The Imp but ….

"I'll use my real name," she said with finality.

"As you wish," he chattered, waving his hand. "You'll find the Princess Belle will be received by all without question in the realm."

She was startled but she covered it with a short nod. She remembered Emma calling her Belle in his hearing but this was the first time he had acknowledged it. All the same…she almost corrected him but then she thought better of it. She pushed Lacey French to the back of her mind, wondering if the fairy tales with their happy ever afters ever really proved that their heroes were good people or just good at faking it.

xxxxxxxxxxx

"It's not going to bite you," he sighed, watching her eying the small dinghy he had conjured into the entrance hall. "Get in-we don't have all night."

Lacey put one foot tentatively in the wooden boat. It swayed dangerously underfoot and she nearly pitched forward with the rocking momentum.

"Is this thing even sea worthy?" She righted herself, plopping down on the middle bench, drawing her skirts tighter around her. The pink fabric was an odd contrast to the warped boards. She adjusted slightly to the left and the whole thing tilted precociously.

He shrugged, palms raised upwards as if to say who knows?

She shook her head, looking about the entrance hall. The tiara in her hair was pinching slightly, the unwashed sweaty strands of her hair falling loosely around her face. She felt nerves and excitement rolling in her gut. The very idea of actually finally talking to someone beside the Imp both frightening and exhilarating.

"So, everyone will just believe I'm a princess, right?" She asked again, giving in into her nervous habit of asking questions in times of stress. "Are they going to ask me about the second kingdom?" Doubts began creeping in and she looked up at him in a panic. "Does everyone speak English? Are they even human? Oh God- what if they're all like you! What am I –"

"Look," The Imp finally interrupted, leaning down at her. "We can do two things- you can pretend to be a princess with no memory from the second kingdom who was miraculously saved at sea by a talking fish or whatever nonsense or I can wipe your memory with magic!"

"And then I'd have no idea what I was doing wandering a fishing kingdom in the middle of the night," she reminded him, crossing her arms over her knees. "With possible monster people who speak a different language."

"Oh well," he shrugged, "worth a try."

"Let's just go already," she huffed, getting antsy.

"Oh," he exclaimed, walking away from the dinghy. "I'm not going with you, dearie."

"Wait- what?" Lacey asked, twisting around, rocking the boat faster on the stone tiles. She clutched at the sides of the boat, trying to steady it.

"Do me proud!" he called, before snapping his fingers. Lacey watched the only place she knew dissolve in purple smoke. She coughed from the plumes of smoke, batting it away with her hands when she felt the boat start to wobble, deeper and further than before.

She froze, letting the purple smoke swarm about her, lifting her hair and slipping down her spine. The empty noises of the hall were replaced with the noise of the ocean, wind and waves. A bird call from behind her made her tilt her head up, watching as a bird with white tail feathers flew over her, beating its way towards the shore.

When the magic faded away, Lacey found it had deposited the dinghy gently in the sea. But the shore was still a few yards out. The night air was cool around her, the breeze from the ocean cooling the summer evening on the shoreline.

The night was pitch dark around her and she was forced to fumble along the floorboards of the dinghy, trying to find an oar – anything to paddle to shore but she came up empty.

"Great," she mumbled to herself, sitting back up carefully as the boat continued to rock precariously in the waves. Reaching over the edge, she splashed at the water in an effort to try to row her way in but the waves pulled the boat backwards and she merely managed to soak her entire arm up to her shoulder.

She watched as the shore receded further away before another wave came rolling in, pushing the excuse of a boat high up on a wave before crashing down hard into the water, salty sea splashing on top of her and filling half the boat with brine.

She yelped as the cold water poured down the back of her neck, shivering violently as the cold wind hit her skin in the aftermath. She felt another tide pull them towards the sea, glancing backwards to watch as another wave rolled up behind her.

Understanding it was a swim or sink situation, Lacey gripped hard to the side of the boat as it lurched forward yet again, bracing herself as the water spilled down on top of her before she stood quickly in the moment's pause of the sea tide.

The boat swayed dangerously but before it tipped, she jumped in the water before she could think better of it.

The water rushed up her nose and into her ears in the seconds her head went under the wave but she pushed forward best she could in the dress. The larger skirt didn't cling to her legs at first but the corset made it hard for her to hold air in her lungs.

She had jumped in facing shore, so she pushed herself forward with her arms and legs- going down slightly in the darkness to avoid the possibility of the boat striking her in the waves.

Lacey felt the tide pull backwards but she used her full strength to pull against it, finding she resisted it enough to do a few strokes forwards when a wave pushed her suddenly forward, raising her to the surface as she sucked in a lungful of air.

She turned to look for the dinghy, but it had disappeared from the sea. She turned back towards the shore, lights twinkling in the distance and she began to swim best she could in the restrictive gown. After a few strokes, she found it easier to let the wave pick her up and push her toward shore.

After what felt like an hour of riding the waves and resisting the back tides, Lacey found herself in shallow water, enough where she could pitch herself forward to the sand a few feet ahead. She lurched across the shallows, feet slipping in the sand beneath her toes before she fell forward with the next wave, face crashing just out of reach of the tide.

Lacey took a long shaky breath, curling her hands into the sand and slowly lifting herself a few more feet until she was out of the sea completely, laying like a beached whale along the cooling sand, hair matted to her head and her dress clinging to her, wet and sodden, hanging in odd place and obviously ruined.

It was hard to breath with the corset and she grudgingly opened an eye to look about.

She was startled half to death to find another eye squinting at her inches away.

Scrambling upwards, she scuttled backwards in surprise. A boy was sitting in the sand where she had been moments ago, looking at her with a disapproving look on his round face.

Her chest was rising and falling in an alarmingly fast rate. She put a hand on her heart to calm herself, watching the boy who eyed her back.

Lacey didn't do kids.

Not that she didn't like them per se. But in her experience, they could sense fear and they responded by crying, kicking and screaming or running away and hiding.

This one was just watching her.

He looked to be about five or six. It was hard to see in the darkness but he had a small lantern behind him- illuminating his jet-black hair and round blue eyes. He had on a rough white short-sleeved shirt with suspenders falling off his sloped shoulders. He wrinkled his nose at her in response to her silent staring.

She licked her lips stalling for time, noticing the salt air and spray was already coating her face. She went to scratch her nose but stopped herself, the unfamiliar corset and tiara exerting a reminder that she had a role to play. A sudden mewing noise startled her to glance down, finding a small black kitten twining around the boys back, spots of white flashing in the lantern light.

"Pinocchio!" Called a voice from the bluff above them. "Pinocchio, where are you!"

The young boy glanced upwards in alarm before back at her, standing quickly and plucking up the lantern and kitten in a defensive gesture.

"Is that you?" she asked, glancing up to see another lantern coming down the sandy dune towards the two of them. He looked at her sullenly, dipping his head down instead of answering her. "Are you supposed to be down here?"

"Pinocchio!" The voice called again, and Lacey found the lantern swing towards them, halting before the carrier started to stumble towards them in the sand.

"Over here," She called out, rising to her feet. Sand coated her entire body, she brushed it off her hands the best she could before raising a hand to try and fix the tiara. She expected some magic had helped keep it on in the waves and she tried the best she could to fix it so it didn't look lopsided in her hair.

The lantern arrived carried by a frail old man, tall and thin with a loping grace as he slid across the sand. His white hair was glowing in the lantern light, wispy and insubstantial but his full mustache quivered with surprise when he found a Princess standing over his lost ward.

"Oh my," he breathed, in astonishment before adding quickly, "Your Royal Highness," he said, bending awkwardly, his old body taking a moment to properly fold.

"Evening," Lacey greeted him, feeling decidedly uncomfortable as he bowed before her. The boy- Pinocchio? – continued to stare up at her in growing dislike. "Uh, please rise," she said awkwardly, flapping her hands a bit. The old man rose slowly, eyes still downcast. Pinocchio tugged at the old man's sleeve.

"Is everything well, Your Royal Highness?" The older man said, stepping towards her slowly, raising the lantern to see her more clearly. "Can I be of assistance?"

"My ship-" Lacey found her throat tighten as the lie came forwards but she forced a quiver in her voice and pushed through it. "There was a storm-"

"Poor thing," the man tutted in sympathy and she found to her surprise- a watery smile spreading across her face and a warm unfamiliar feeling of gratitude rising up in her chest.

"I-" she started but she had to stop and smile tightly, raising a hand to wipe away tears that were suddenly falling unexpectedly from her eyes. "I just-"

She was overwhelmed. The mere fact that she was standing on a strange beach in the middle of the night with a old man and a young boy was decidedly odd but it more the concern- the genuine concern that a complete stranger showed- she felt tears burning down her cheeks and she sniffled in embarrassment.

The boy looked disgusted, turning his head away and heaving a sigh of annoyance. The old man looked horrified, pushing him behind him. She laughed and the old man looked up startled.

"Is this your son?" she asked, gesturing her free hand towards Pinocchio who was pointedly not looking at her.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," the old man answered. "I apologize if he has disturbed you, he's a good boy he just has a tendency-"

"It's fine," she assured, fighting to gain control of herself. "And your name, sir?"

"Gepetto, if it pleases Your Royal Highness," he responded, ducking his head back down in a show of reverence.

"Gepetto," she included her head towards him, " I'm afraid I don't know where I am…"

Swinging his lantern out to the sea, the old man looked upon the ocean. He shook his head in wonder before back to her with concern in his eyes.

"Your Royal Highness, you are in the Seventh Realm at the Far Coast. Where did you embark from?"

"The Fourth Kingdom," she said slowly, glancing up towards the dunes ahead where the lights had been visible earlier. "I was traveling for the ball-"

She took a step towards the dunes, but her knees buckled beneath her and she fell to the sand with a cry. Gepetto rushed forward with a sound of distress, but he pulled back moments before he touched her. He hovered just above her, eyes flashing in the lantern as he murmured, "Is Your Royal Highness hurt?"

"No, just tired," Lacey confessed and suddenly, she was. A rush of exhaustion seemed to wash through her and she fought to keep her eyes open.

"You must be exhausted from your ordeal. Let's find you a place to rest for the night. I will run to the castle and request a carriage be sent-"

She shook her head, interrupting him by placing an hand on his arm. He stilled, looking down in wonder at the pale ungloved hand on his coat. She felt suddenly unsure of herself and she went to pull it back but he covered her hand with his own and slowly helped her to her feet.

"I couldn't ask you to do that, if you would but point me in the way of the castle-"

"She can't stay with us!" Pinocchio suddenly blurted out. Lacey found herself looking over at him, a small figure standing stubbornly away from them in the darkness. Gepetto seemed at a loss for words but Lacey patted his arm absently and sighed. Even in Fae kids didn't like her.

"Pinocchio!" the man scolded, gesturing for his son to come over to him. The boy compiled but he kept his eyes on he. "I apologize, Your Royal Highness. He's young-"

"It's fine," she responded, fighting back a yawn. It was not even past midnight, she would usually take her tea now but the ocean seemed to have sucked her energy from her. Couldn't have been too much to ask for that The Imp could have put her down a few feet from the shore- no, he had to drown her first. She shook her head in weariness, "I wouldn't intrude-"

"Your Royal Highness," Gepetto said."It would be our pleasure to host any who came to our door but a Princess is not just a guest but a honor. " He went to bow again, lantern shaking in his grip as he tried to sink down gallantly.

Lacey raised her hand to stop him, not sure how many bows the old man could take before he was stuck in one.

"If you'll just follow me, our cottage is just over this bluff. If it doesn't offend Your Royal Highness, you are welcome to rest for a while. Pinocchio, run along and make a bed for our guest, quick and don't get distracted!"

Pinocchio glared at her before suddenly running off, bursts of sand flying from his small feet. The lantern swayed as he ran up the dune, the kitten clutched in his other arm. The old man turned to her, a fond smile on his face and offered her to go ahead of him. She smiled in return, slipping her arm through his. He jolted a bit, glancing down before putting his wrinkled hand over hers.

They made their way slowly across the beach; the fake princess and the old man with no words passing between them.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**And we are out of the Dark Castle! Who's excited as Lacey is?**

**(And don't worry I'm not cutting you all off from Rumple- he will back soon.)**

**So, when I started writing The Gate- a look at our world mixed with the Enchanted Forest- I chose Lacey as my heroine. Not the exact same Storybrooke Lacey- who Regina had a hand in making- but a woman who had all of Belle's virtues mixed with all of Lacey's flaws. I touched upon this in the first few author's notes but as we get more into Lacey dealing with others and how she views the idealistic people of this world- I wanted to reflect on that.**

**Again, this is a story about how its not always the monsters that need to change. I think a huge reason we all are so drawn to Rumple is his constant fluidity – he has been at the bottom and at the top and sometimes he is horrified at himself and sometimes he is so damn proud of himself – and its such an interesting character mix that OuaT does so well with its "villains' but doesn't always translate to the "heroes".**

**Who among us doesn't love themselves one minute and then have a moment of clarity like "Holy Fuck I am the worst. I am the absolute worst…" But this is on a much smaller scale than Rumple/Hook/Regina's issues- ours are more every day. But that doesn't make it any less important.**

**Which is why I personally loved the idea of Lacey- let's see Belle with all the dark parts of her- the bold daringness of the book worm in our gritty world. The taboo in the Enchanted Forest used to be a lady being an woman of learning, - and in our world she could have been an adventurer or a traveler or a risk taker adrenaline junkie on our side- but when we met finally Lacey -she was a dark woman who liked to get loose, make out with strangers and push the line to see how far she could go before it broke.**

**Because our world is such a different place from the Enchanted Forest- but also because Regina had a hand in the memories and she chose to try and pull Rumple back into the darkness by using his only light as a guide.**

**I would have just liked to seen Belle come back with some of Lacey still in her- some of that edge. She had the spunk and the courage and the guts and all the things we love about Belle. But the woman (was it Belle or Lacey?) was also locked up from 28 years- that couldn't have done wonders for her sanity- even when she did get her memories back.**

**I like feisty Belle, insecure Belle, "I'm not sure what I'm doing and I'll take advice but hell no am I going to do what you tell me to do" Belle. And I miss that Belle. So. What do we fans do when we want something a show isn't giving us?**

**Oh right- fanfiction.**

**Okay- I'm rambling and I'm stopping- I just wanted to give any of you wonderful readers who actually read this note section- a clearer picture of why I am writing Lacey/Belle instead of the Belle we all know and love or the Lacey we didn't get to know quite as well.**

**My Lacey French is a mix of the two sides- a modern day dame who finds herself in a world where everything she thought made her strong- might just be the things preventing her from being who she really is.**

**Enough character talk! But a quick word on the world of Fae which we will delve into more in the coming chapters.**

**I grew up on Disney movies, fairy tales and anything that was remotely to do with magic, mystery and the unknown. And when I started to reach the age of cynicism, the 10th Kingdom aired on TV.**

**I was old enough to understand the darkness and still young enough to love the happily ever after promise. And so when they announced OuaT, I was eager for more of the same mix of our reality and the fairy tales. I especially loved how Rumple became the Beast and the Crocodile and how seamless it was. How Red was the victim and the wolf. How what we had come to expect from our fairy tales had a kernel of darkness in the core.**

**So to honor that work, I wanted to include a homage to the 10th Kingdom in my work- so it will not follow any of the Kingdoms, storylines or who's who in each land- there are 10 kingdoms/realms that make up Fae. Each Realm has multiple kingdoms inside it- so for instance, Eric isn't the only prince in the Seventh Kingdom- but he's the one we care about because #Eric.**

**In case you're wondering- the kingdoms mentioned so far:**

**The 10th Kingdom- is the Land of the Believers, a "made up, mystical" realm (aka where you and I live)**

**The Ninth Kingdom is where the Dark Castle lies.**

**The Fourth Kingdom is where Snow White, Prince Charming reside. (Where Emma's from.)**

**The Seventh Kingdom is where Prince Eric, Pinocchio and Gepetto live and where we will meet Ariel (next chapter!)**

**(But some of you may be have noted Lacey's question about where the Gate was -the mountains and lakebed- and the answer is- you'll find out when she does.)**

**Wanted to welcome i_amgoku, Trainee Hero, Roses Near Rivers, bunnynanagirl, abrightredrose, AlexaSkylerHolmes, thesilentstars and Bloody dawn._ Thank you all for taking the time to read and even bigger thanks for following or favoriting the story!**

**As always, I am working without a beta- I've sent some emails out to some betas but haven't had any response back so if you know anyone who might be looking for a story to beta- let me know! If you see any spelling errors or grammar issues- please send me a message and I'll correct and give you a shoutout!**

**Thanks again for reading!**

**-B**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

Feeling immensely relieved that not all the inhabitants of Fae were evil magical creatures, Lacey was able to fully relax in the small cottage of Gepetto.

His home was not far from the path from the dunes, windows lit with candlelight as they had approached from the beach. Bowing low to allow her to enter through the beautifully painted blue door, Gepetto ushered her inside, muttering his apologies for the mess.

The house had an open floor plan, large enough for a single man but not a family. In the back of the large room, a fireplace was crackling to light despite the summer heat. Despite the hot arid evening, the sea had a cool wind that had chilled her on their walk up from the beach and her dress and undergarments were still soaking wet from the sea. Gepetto was pulling a chair out at the table tucked off to the side, indicating for her to come over and rest.

Pinocchio was sulking in the corner on a three-legged stool, his small kitten played distractedly with the strings of his shoes as the adults settled into the quaint lodging. Gepetto was visibly anxious, throwing blankets on the cot by the fireplace, toeing tools and shavings out of the way as he moved about the room. The wooden floor was dusty under his feet. An old bachelor, Lacey mused, removing a metal tool from its discarded position on hand carved chair.

Her eyes flickered to the young boy who bent his head away when he felt her eyes on him. He seemed to be listening to something only he could hear, nodding and making small whispers periodically. She turned her attention away, focusing on her surroundings.

It was not so different from what she had been expecting. The house obviously doubled as Gepetto's workplace but instead of it feeling cramped, it felt homier than she had imagined it could. The room itself was crowded with wooden toys along all the walls, shelves and any available surface. Strewn about as if in constant play, the toys were in various stages of construction. Some were completely finished, delicately painted with a shine of gloss while others were still being carved, looking forsaken and half done where they lay. Lacey gently picked one up from the floor, tracing the lines of the small marionette before carefully placing it on the nearest table, fingers plucking at the strings hanging off it towards the floor.

Drying herself by the fire, Lacey observed the domestic scene with interest. The warmth of the fire, lit by Gepetto for her comfort despite the warm summer night, was making her drowsier still. She found herself jerking her ahead, practically falling asleep sitting up.

She glanced over at the boy, who was now quietly talking to the kitten at his feet and ignoring her completely. Gepetto was shaking out a large sheet, draping it over a hanging line to create a barrier in the open floor plan dwelling. Lacey glanced upwards at the wooden beamed ceiling rafters, vaguely thinking of her first apartment which had been about this size but had lacked all the intricacies and character that Gepetto had obviously added over the years.

She was pleasantly distracted by the crackling of the fire and Gepetto's soft shuffling, the soft mewing of the kitten, who Gepetto was now addressing by the name of Figaro. So, she almost didn't notice the insect.

It was too large to be a cricket… but Lacey supposed Fae had bigger insects along with all the mythical creatures. It was facing her with large bug eyes, glowing amber in the firelight. It's antenna twitched at her, back legs rubbing together absently. Lacey instinctively reached out a hand to swat it away but was startled as Pinocchio cried out, "Jiminy!" and bolted upright to grab at her hand.

"Pinocchio!" Gepetto cried out in horror, nearly entangling himself within the blanket as he tried to reach out and catch the boy before he assaulted a royal. Lacey half-turned away from the bug at Pinocchio's sudden outburst and went to turn back to calm Gepetto when the cricket leaped straight at her.

Emitting a yelp of surprise, Lacey pushed herself backwards to avoid the bug. However, with Pinocchio's added weight half in her lap and her sudden movement, she felt the chair tilt backwards, threatening to spill them both onto the floor.

Pinocchio was grabbing for the insect, just as Lacey reached out to claw at the table when a voice in her ear suddenly chirped," Calm down Pinoc!"

_Oh well honestly_, Lacey thought resignedly as the chair righted itself, thudding down on the floor with a bump. _Of course the bugs here would talk. _

_Xxxxxxx_

Once Gepetto had managed to disentangle himself from the blankets and remove Pinocchio from her person, Lacey found herself sitting at the table in front of her hosts, a kitten purring happily in her lap and a cricket staring up at her from Pinocchio's shoulder.

"Jiminy Cricket," it was stating proudly, making a small motion with its forelegs. "I'm Pinocchio's conscience!"

A bit lost at to what that exactly entailed, Lacey glanced over at Gepetto who was carving a small piece of wood nervously. She licked her lips, trying to keep her princess like composure in check. "I see," she said, although she really didn't, not at all. "And you can talk?"

"Well," the small insect said slowly as if talking to a child. "Most of us enchanted can." Pinocchio was avoiding his father's eye, kicking restlessly in his chair. Jiminy chirped once, rustling his wings together as he looked up at the boy. "I was very sorry to hear about your ordeal," he said turning back to Lacey. "However did you manage to survive such-"

Anticipating questions she had not prepared for, Lacey hedged her bets. She could refuse to answer- Gepetto seemed humiliated enough at the young boy's behavior. But the added oddity of a talking bug made Lacey unsure of the wisdom of that course. Hadn't The Imp told her something about those pure at heart being important?

The bug was continuing his spiel, sounding very official and important for something she could squash with a shoe. Deciding the best course of action was avoidance, Lacey suddenly let out a loud yawn, covering it with the back of her hand in what she hoped was realistic enough to convey embarrassment at her own rudeness. "I'm sorry," Lacey exclaimed, letting exhaustion thicken her voice. "I…I just didn't expect to ever make it to shore and you'll all been so kind but now there's an enchanted grasshopper-"

"I'm not an grasshopper!" Jiminy screeched, rubbing his back legs together in offense.

Lacey felt a strong headache coming on. She opened her mouth to apologize but then closed it again, placing a hand to her forehead in exaggerated defeat. "I didn't mean to offend," she began, letting a slight waver permeate her tone. "I'm just so tired…"

Gepetto stood, walking around the table to take her hand, pressing it to his chest in earnest. "Enough of this," he said, raising her up from her seat. "It's time to let Her Royal Highness rest. Pinocchio, Jiminy, we have our errands to attend to before the sun rises."

Jiminy demurred with a strident chirp, eyes flashing at Lacey from his perch. She felt perhaps she now better understood where Pinocchio's hostility had come from. The small insect didn't seem inclined to trust her. She wondered if she was missing something about her cover story or if magical creatures were more talented at sniffing out liars.

Lacey nodded her thanks to Gepetto, letting him lead her through the cloth partition to rest. As he lowered the lamp and smothered the fire, Lacey sat on the edge of the cot, listening to the low whisperings of the cricket and the boy. She thanked Gepetto again, assuring him she was fine until he left her makeshift room, the blanket falling closed behind him. She reached down to slip her shoes off, sand and salt crusting the boots and cracking the leather. She deposited them under the bed, removing her tiara and putting it beside them. She heard Gepetto hushing the others before the door opened and closed, giving her some privacy in the small hut.

The kitten suddenly poked his nose through the blanket partition, blinking at her in the dim light of the fire. She leaned down to pick the small ball of fluff up, listening to him purr in contentment as he rubbed against her forearm.

Lacey scratched behind his ears, watching the gold gleam of the bracelet. The Imp had given her, the key to getting the mermaid's help in all this. She traced the gold with her free hand, fingers pausing on the catch, taking in the delicateness of the trinket.

It wasn't until the noise of Gepetto and Pinocchio's footsteps finally trailed out of hearing that Lacey realized she couldn't get out of her dress.

Xxxxx

The morning broke into the cottage through the shutters of the window. The light of the early morning played over her eyelids and cheeks. Lacey tried to draw the blanket firmly over her head.

"It's not even dark yet," she complained sleepily, turning over. She had slept well, she realized hazily, trying to slip back into the odd dream about donkeys and goldfish she had been having.

She was dimly aware that her usual nightmares hadn't attended to her in the darkness as they usually did during her daylight rest at the Dark Castle. She was just about to fall back into the unconsciousness of sleep when a shrill clanging tore though the room, startling her upwards and nearly falling out of the narrow bed.

"Pinocchio!" She heard Gepetto hiss in horror and she covered her ears as the sound continued. It repeated itself a few more times before ceasing. Lacey swung her legs off the bed, rubbing her eyes and realizing the repeating clanging noise must have been a clock of some sort.

"Sorry Papa!" The boy was saying fitfully, voice cracking. "I didn't mean to-"

Unbidden, a loud yawn cracked Lacey's jaw and she heard the two still behind the makeshift barrier of the sheet. "Quickly, quickly," Gepetto was whispering, his usual soft tones tinged with alarm. Lacey blinked, reaching up to rub sleep out of her eyes as she slowly stood, cot creaking as her weight left it.

"But Papa-" Pinocchio was complaining as she stretched her arms overhead in an instinctive stretch. "I hate it in there-"

"Pinocchio, be a good boy, please," Gepetto was urging. Lacey frowned at the whispers, reaching under the cot to grasp for her tiara, placing it lightly on her head when a soft click made her still. She hesitated, before standing. Her hand hovered at the blanket's edge, wondering what was going on when a small meow made her look down to find Figaro rubbing happily against her now wrinkled and discolored skirts.

She bent awkwardly in her corset and skirts when Gepetto pulled the blanket aside, standing before her with a nervous smile on his lined face. She smiled, pushing her hair back out of her face as she stood back up, Figaro purring in her arms.

"Good morning, Your Royal Highness." Gepetto bowed his head deeply, waiting for her to greet him in return. "Did you sleep well, Princess Belle?"

She assured him she had. Her voice raspy with sleep as she stared bemusedly at the sun peeping through the hand sewed curtains. She crossed past him to the window, the wooden floor cool on her bare feet.

The town outside was awake and bustling. She could see out to the dock in the sunlight, her eyes protesting at the sudden brightness. She blinked away the tears, feeling the full warmth of the sun on her face for the first time in months. Gepetto was behind her, quietly taking down the partition as she gazed out the window.

No one seemed to notice the small cottage or the woman in the window. All were too busy- pushing carts of fish or carrying boats down to the harbor, calling out to one another and hawking their wares. The very humanity of it made Lacey smile, watching as one man nearly pushed his cart into a wall, having turned to watch a young woman as she carried her basket back up the hill from the market.

Far to the left of the docks, a large bridge spanned over the rolling water of a river cascading down into the sea. She could see turrets glittering in the sun, winks of light flashing off what must be flagpoles and metallic gildings. She let the curtain fall, turning back into the darker hut as Gepetto coughed politely.

He was holding out a dish, a slice of bread and a large fish decorating the small tin plate. "If you would like to break your fast, Your Royal Highness," he offered, setting the plate down next to a tin cup filled with water.

She hurried over. Her stomach protested she had slept too much and eaten too little since the Imp had woken her last night. She cut the fish up, eating the parts she recognized, ignoring the bones and polished off the bread before she realized Gepetto was still standing dutifully behind her.

She turned, trying to hold down the unladylike burp that was building from the quick eating to see him smiling at her at the dimness of the hut. Able to see him more clearly than the night before Lacey noticed the small things she had missed last night. His pants were patched but well cared for and his shirt was stained around the armpits and neck but cleanly pressed, his hat old and well worn but the feather in it was new and bright.

"Thank you." She said, nodding at the plate. She stood, brushing the crumps off her lap, noticing Gepetto's slight puzzled expression at her slip in manners but he was too well mannered to say anything. He continued to stand by the bed, hands behind him. Silence fell between them and she scrounged about a bit for what to say when her eyes fell on the wall behind him. "Why don't you open the curtains?" She asked politely, motioning towards the covered windows, which had all been opened last night.

Gepetto coughed, turning slightly red as he looked over his shoulder. "Oh, just the heat," he said, waving a hand. "Keeps it cool in here." Lacey nodded in agreement, turning to look around the room to distract herself.

Cuckoo clocks of different sizes and colors were haphazardly hung on the wall, some crooked and low and others perfectly neat and lined up and dusted proudly. They were all currently dormant, doors and hatches closed and silently ticking in perfect time to each other. The sudden clanging from earlier suddenly made sense as her eyes fell on one laying by a nearby cupboard, it looked to be slightly off from the others, its little hand twirling faster than the rest of the ones hanging on the wall.

"Do you collect these?" She asked curiously. He closed his eyes and nodded happily, a faint blush crossing his withered cheeks.

"I make them, Your Royal Highness. I'm a carpenter by trade but I dabble in clocks and other mechanics when I have the time." He was obviously proud of his work, his eyes tracing the clocks lovingly. Attempting to show interest, Lacey stepped closer to the wall, looking at the nearest one.

It was a white house with red and green flowers in the garden beds, windows shuttered with panes and flowers painted on them, the roof a brown color with a small chimney jutting out. Underneath the house, a beautifully set clock was ticking- she noticed it had three hands and twenty numbers on it. She traced the detail of the gutters and chimney with her finger, careful of the delicate wind vane on the top of the house.

"It's lovely," she offered. She was unsure why anyone would want something that loud and kitschy but opting to compliment instead. She was used to people being obscenely proud of their accomplishments, anything that screamed at you every hour wasn't something she thought many people would want- doubtless why the old man and young boy lived in a small cottage by the sea despite his obvious talent carving toys and furniture.

"Then, it is yours, Your Royal Highness," Gepetto answered magnanimously. He shuffled forward graciously pausing as she moved to the side in confusion. He took the clock she had been 'admiring' down, holding it out to her in genuine gratitude.

"I couldn't," she was saying, eyeing it nervously. "I have nothing to pay you with-"

"A gift, for honoring my home with your presence," he said, pressing it into her hands, cloudy eyes shining with pride. Lacey took it, offering a queasy smile. She handled it uncertainty, reminded of the time her cousin had asked her to hold her baby and she had juggled with it awkwardly, praying for someone to take it away from her.

No such luck came. So, she found herself fumbling for another conversation piece, desperate to get out of the small hut and away from the kind old fool before he gave her any more clocks. She glanced down at the golden bangle hanging from her wrist and she cleared her throat in what she hoped was regal. "Thank you for your kindness." She offered a small curtsey, juggling the clock awkwardly. "But I should be leaving, I have a long walk ahead-"

"Oh, but Your Royal Highness," he interrupted, distress in his eyes. "Jiminy went out to fetch a carriage from the castle for you this morning."

"Oh," she uttered, eyes darting to the door. She wasn't sure how long it would take a cricket to get to the castle, much less how he planned on getting a carriage but she demurred. After all, she was less eager to try her luck convincing actual royals she was one of them. She nodded to him again, reminding herself it was better than being stuck in a castle with a psychopath. "That's so kind of you. Really I can't accept your gift when you have done so much for me-"

"Please," he said, backing away from her as she went to hand him back the odd clock. "Something to remember me and my boy by."

Oh right, Lacey thought. She had forgotten about the little pipsqueak. She turned, checking for signs of him, eyes falling briefly on the large cupboard on the opposite side of the room.

"Is he out?" she asked, eyes on the cupboard's doors.

"Yes," Gepetto said nodding deeply, eyes straying towards the cupboard. "He's out running errands."

"Ah," Lacey said, wondering why he was hiding the boy this morning. Was he afraid the boy would offend her again that he hid him away? Why not send him out earlier? She found herself frowning as she went to put her shoes on, tying up the laces while staring at the cupboard which she was fairly sure Pinocchio was hiding in.

Honestly, was she so terrible that he hid his son in the cabinetry?

A knock on the door made both of them turn, Gepetto hurrying towards it. He opened it to reveal a red headed man, dressed in khaki breeches and a maroon cravat. The knocker bowed low when he saw Lacey, his ginger hair glistening in the sun. She stood to meet him, glancing at the bespectacled freckled face.

"Good morning, Princess," the familiar tones of Jiminy Cricket greeted her. Lacey's mouth fell open slightly but she quickly closed it , "I hope you slept well?"

"Jiminy?" She asked, eyes narrowing as she took him in. He was regarding her in obvious suspicion, eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

"Your Royal Highness," He replied, but with a hint of steel behind it. "Are you quite all right?"

"Ah, yes," Lacey found herself saying. She threw her shoulders back, waving a hand at him in dismissal. "I was just surprised by your quickness, that's all. It was kind of you to fetch a carriage. Thank you."

"Not at all, Your Royal Highness," he said, slowly. They both stared at each other for a moment more, Lacey trying to figure out what exactly was happening without revealing how ignorant she was of this world's norms. Thankfully, Jiminy moved to the side to reveal two men in splendid uniform standing at attention just beyond him.

They were resplendent in gold and white with large blue feathers in their hat's brims. They practically glowed in the sunlight. Even Jiminy was well-dressed, tan breeches and a white button up under his black vest. Lacey felt ridiculous in her ruined dress, her hair matted from sleep and a cuckoo clock laying limply in her grasp. She wanted nothing more to stay in the shadows of the hut but her pride prevailed over her vanity. She smiled tightly at the cricket-turned-man, before turning to face the guards.

"We are here to take your Royal Highness, Princess Belle of the Fourth Kingdom to the Royal Palace of their Majesties King Hans and Queen Christiana of the Seventh Kingdom and their son, his Royal Highness Prince Eric."

Lacey felt a general sense of foreboding trickling down her spine. Thankfully, the tiara's weight on her curls reminded her of her course. She turned to Gepetto, offering her hand to him which he took graciously, dipping a small kiss to the back of her hand before releasing it and sinking into a bow.

She smiled down at the thick white hair of her host, gently touching his shoulder with a free hand before she moved to the door. She nodded at Jiminy who stood beside the doorway, watching her intently. She ignored him. She simply gave her hand to the closest guard who hosted her up. Her eyes met those of Jiminy, standing just in the doorway, Gepetto staring up at her with a fond smile behind the younger man/cricket/thing.

Jiminy's eyes were skeptical, his arms crossed defensively in front of him as he watched the carriage door swing closed behind her. Lacey smiled at him, forcing her head upwards and her shoulders back, the very image of a proud princess as the guard gave the cry to the horses.

As the carriage jerked off along the dirt path, Lacey finally released the breath she had been holding. The cuckoo clock remained tight in her grasp.

xxxxxx

"Announcing Her Royal Highness, the Princess Belle of the Fourth Kingdom!"

Lacey's head swiveled to the announcer, mouth slack. She was suddenly, terribly, horribly unsure of what to do next.

"I.." She said quietly, glancing down the long length of the throne room where a dais was raised. Two figures were sitting, awaiting her as the bugle noise faded from the room. All eyes, hundreds of them it seemed, were fixed on her in the shadows of the doorway. Lacey cursed herself seven ways to Sunday but her legs refused to move. She remained stuck in the doorway, frozen in place.

The throne room was nearly as large as the Entrance Hall in the Imp's castle. And it was filled with windows, huge towering sheets of glass that lined both sides of the throne room, throwing everyone into full light, bright colors and jewels winking at her from every angle. The closest footman coughed politely and Lacey turned back to find him making a gentle forward motion with his left hand, urging her on.

Lacey felt well and truly screwed. She could stand here all day and plead insanity, losing her chance at impressing the crown and finding the mermaid. Or she could walk down the hall before her and ignore the stares.

Focusing on the now familiar weight of the tiara in her rat's nest of curls, Lacey took a step forward. Then another. Continuing down the long hall, trying to seem as calm as possible and not stare back at all the curious people pressing closer to get a good look at her. Some were making soft comments under their breath as she neared the royal thrones but she couldn't hear them from behind their fans and silks.

One fat woman in bright yellow taffeta actually twittered, pointing at her from behind her fan. Lacey tightened her jaw, forcing herself forward instead of stopping to respond in turn. Her ruined boots echoed oddly in the crowded hall. The tiles underfoot had actual seashells inlaid in them, a beautiful touch that she noticed even as she tried to keep her eyes raised.

The walk seemed to last forever before she finally found herself sweeping into a deep curtsey, her skirts billowing out as she sank down in front of the dais, an older couple looking down at her in open interest.

"Your Royal Majesties," she echoed, hoping that was the correct term.

"Rise, my dear," said the Queen, rising from her throne and descending the steps to stand before her. The Queen Christiana had dark brown hair, streaks of silvers in the temples pulled back into a chignon. She had kind brown eyes, crow's feet heavily pronounced. As she spoke, Lacey noticed a gap in between her two front teeth, which caused her to smile with her eyes rather than her mouth.

The Queen Christiana took Lacey's hands in her hers, rubbing them between hers, the bejeweled rings on her hand warm to the touch. "You poor thing," she mumbled, reaching out and pushing her hair behind her ear. Lacey started at the intimate touch, still unused to someone's casual touch. The woman smiled sadly at her, squeezing her hands softly before glancing back at her husband.

"My love, we must have a room prepared for this poor thing at once. She has traveled so far only for the sea to take its ultimate toll," She turned back to Lacey, taking in the sea-ruined dress, tiara glistening through the strands. "And yet for some reason, it was generous enough to spare her. It washed her up on _our_ shores, alone and afraid. Surely, it meant for her to come to us?"

The entire court was nodding now, even the bright yellow idiot who had been moments before whispering venom to her neighbors. Lacey let her eyes rise up to the dais where the King stood nodding down at his wife. He was a larger man, tall and broad in chest. He was silver haired, a beard covering most of his face, his crown bushing his forehead into a map of wrinkles and valleys.

"Of course, Grimsby, see to it that the Princess Belle has rooms prepared at once," the king commanded, motioning to a weedy man in the corner who came hustling forward. "We shall not ignore such a priceless gift from the sea."

"You are too kind," Lacey mumbled, sinking into another curtsey since she was at a loss at what exactly she should do. She worried her bracelet absently. The man, Grimsby, noticed and flashed a quick look of reproof at her causing her to still.

The Queen raised her back up, placing a soft hand under her chin and bringing her eyes to hers. "We are hosting a Gala these next few nights to celebrate the safe return of our only son, Prince Eric. I will hope you will attend as our guest."

"Your Majesty," Lacey said, smiling at the ease of the invitation. "Why, nothing would make me happier."

The Queen smiled warmly back, handing her off to the man Grimsby who seemed to be the head servant of the castle, who was to show her to her rooms and collect her again for supper.

"Your Majesties, "She said, pausing for dramatic effect, eyes lowered to the odd tile work of the hall. "Do you think… do you think it possible that I might go down to the sea for a moment?"

Both royals frowned in thought, turning to one another in confusion. Lacey felt a brief moment of panic but she pressed on, remembering the King's earlier words. "I would give thanks to the sea for my safe arrival on these welcoming shores…and perhaps say goodbye to those who accompanied me only to perish at sea."

The whole ballroom quieted. A few muffled cries of emotion rang out in the stillness and the Queen regarded her with fondness. "But off course," the Queen said, glancing to her husband who seemed uncomfortable with the emotional outburst of his court. "Grimsby will take you down to our private cove where you won't be disturbed. We shall see you at the Gala tonight."

"You are too kind," Lacey said, curtsying again. This time, it was to hide her smug grin.

XxXxX

Grimsby was a nosy old thing, Lacey thought irritability, climbing down the steep staircase in the rocks that led to the small cove. He was asking pointed questions about her family, the castle she grew up in, what her father's coat of arms looked like…

Lacey had artfully faked a few emotional stutters, sniffed in the right places and whispered how painful it was to remember her home so far away until Grimsby finally quieted. He kept a sharp eye on her all the same.

When they finally arrived at the beach, he stood by the stairs. She made her way though the white sand to the crystal sapphire of the ocean. She waded into the surf, letting the waves lap her feet, soaking the dress. The dark stains from the salt water the night before resetting in the bright sun.

She looked out over the horizon, noticing no ships in the distance, just ocean as far as she could see. The morning sun was gleaming down on the beach. The waves crashed further out to sea, the foamy crests pure white on the deep blue. She felt an unexpected peace settle in her chest at the tranquility of the wind blowing from the deep unknown.

But her mission was not forgotten. She played for time looking out to sea, trying to find a way to buy herself some privacy when it hit her.

She sniffed, then again a bit louder just to make sure Grimsby heard before she dropped her head, raising her hands to her cheeks, emitting a loud sob.

"Princess Belle?" came the low voice of her guide, nearing slightly before stopping just a bit short of her. "Are you well?"

"I'm fine," she mumbled into her palms, trying to remember the technique to cry on demand. "I'm just- oh I'm sorry, I just-"

"Should I fetch someone?" he was asking, shifting nervously beside her. But she found she remembered the trick, drawing in breath in huge gulps without exhaling until she felt her chest shake with the exertion. Her shoulders twitched in response and she felt tears clouding her eyes at the strain.

She lowered her hands, letting the first teardrop down into the salty spray at her feet. Satisfied, she turned her face to Grimsby. He backed up quickly, eyes wide at the sight of a royal's tears.

"Oh I'm so sorry," she cried, sniffing artfully as another tear fell down her cheek to join the ocean below. "I hate to be so caught up in my grief…but I find…could I just have a few moments to myself? I know the way back to the castle," she reassured him, closing her eyes against the pain.

She waited; letting her shoulders continue to shake. Grimsby stalled a moment before she opened her eyes again, two big tears slipping down again as she pierced him with her best puppy dog eyes. It worked wonders as he suddenly stammered, "Uh,, well, of course if the Princess wishes-"

"She does," Lacey stated firmly. Grimsby eyed her warily for a bit before nodding and making his way back to the stairs.

"When you return to the palace, ask for me and I will take you to your rooms," he bowed. "Your Royal Highness."

He departed, apparently relieved to get away from the emotional mess of a Princess, disappearing behind the shelf that the staircase hid behind. She waited, counting to a hundred in her head, hearing the footsteps retreat. Finally she walked slowly over to the stairs, noticing Grimsby's disappearing back as he entered the castle far above them.

Dropping the grief stricken act, Lacey stared back out over the ocean, eyes narrowed as she thought.

The sun overhead was making it hard to see and the dark blue waters made it impossible to see anything farther out than ten feet. She turned to see if there was a better vantage point when she noticed a jutting rock. There was a rock shelf over it that pushed out even further.

Setting out for it, she took her boots off, feeling the warm sand tickling her feet, straining between her toes as she walked. Hoisting herself on to the waist high rock, she carefully stood, her skirts heavy with the sea.

She edged out to the right, to where the rock shelf jutted out over the ocean. Coral reefs, white and yellow and red in the sunlight separated the shelf's small ocean pond from the main ocean, a trick of the tide. Lacey felt the hot stone under her feet warming her toes, careful where she put her feet. In remembering the painful night hobbling barefoot in the woods all to well.

She made it to the far side of the large rock, noting with alarm the rock shelf was a bit higher than she had originally thought. She eyed it, trying to decide if it was worth the risk of plunging into the unknown depth of the water below when she saw a flash of something in the corner of her eye.

She bent down, trying to see the far side of the reefs more clearly but the waves broke against the reefs, water spraying. When it calmed, nothing else was in sight. Lacey sighed, hoisting her dress up by the skirts, spreading her legs out to climb.

She found a good grip on the shelf, placing her right hand there and her left foot in the notch nearby. She climbed up off the rock, bare feet protesting with the strain. She wedged her right foot into a nearby shelf and reached her left hand up to the surface of the shelf, finding it slick.

"Great," she mumbled, trying to get the best grip possible. She rose up, her right foot grasping at another bit of rock, raising herself up to where her face was level with the rock shelf surface. She reached her hand out, grasping the far side of the shelf, pulling her body up with one arm, when her foot slipped out from beneath her.

Lacey felt her legs fall out from under her, her right hand slipping with gravity, banging her chest into the rock shelf, cursing loudly as her corseted chest smacked into it, air leaving her lungs. She wheeled her free hand out on the shelf, trying to find a grip.

She felt her hand slipping and she twisted, trying to avoid smacking her head on the rock shelf. Her hand had a spasm at the sudden pressure. Losing her grip, she fell down to the rock, hitting a wet spot from the recent spray that caused her to slide further out. She reached out to grab something, felt her momentum twist her around and then she slipped off the rock and into the small ocean water trapped in the pond below.

She barely had a moment to grasp what was happening before she was in water over her head. She felt her dress billowing out in the stale water, her skirts caught in something in the pool, dragging her down. She pushed upwards, towards the sun gleaming overhead. The dress was too well made and it refused to rip free. Her corset was tight around her ribs, pressing painfully into her diaphragm. Her earlier fall having knocked all the air from her, she was already dizzy with lack of oxygen.

She kicked, her feet tangling in the underskirts, the ruined fabric soaking in the water and pulling her further down into the depths. She glanced down, panicking when she realized she couldn't see the bottom. She kicked again, arms straining overhead. Panic was settling in her chest and causing her to open her mouth in frustration, air bubbles escaping and rising without her towards the sun.

She twisted again, frantically trying to raise herself from sinking. Her sight darkened from the dark depths or the air loss Lacey wasn't exactly sure. She thought angrily about the Imp's promise about no harm coming to her, holding on to that quip before she remembered.

The sea witch wouldn't allow him in her domain. She was going to drown unless she saved herself.

She pushed again, hand reaching out towards the light fading overhead, seeing her hands clearly outlined by the sun's beam. The light from above glinted off the bracelet at her wrist. She wondered in a moment of clarity if it could save her. But just as she thought this, someone had her by the hand and was pulling her back up.

She struggled upwards with them, her hair clouding her face in the sudden movement. She kicked fiercely, pushing downwards with her free hand to help her rescuer. Her feet paddling madly under her thrice damned skirts as she broke the water's surface, gasping in air in grateful relief.

The sunlight blinded her eyes as she blinked the salt water out of them. Her rescuer was towing her towards the coral reefs nearby. She let them pull her, kicking feebly as she sucked air into her lungs. When her back was against the warm coral, she turned and pulled herself up on to them. She lay her head down on the warm coral, letting the sun warm her skin and let her heart stop its wild racing. She opened an eye when she felt a warm hand on her ankle.

Lacey raised herself up, pushing the soaking mess of hair out of her eyes. Emma's tiara was still firmly on her head. She corrected it slightly, grateful she had pinned it in so well this morning before leaving Gepetto's. She glanced down to say thank you to her rescuer when she realized it was a teenage girl.

The teen was smiling up at her, bottom lip sucked into her teeth where she was chewing it nervously. One hand was still on Lacey's ankle, the other moving slowly to keep her afloat. Her shoulders were tanner than the skin that occasionally moved over the surface of the water, her nose burnt and her big green eyes blinking up at Lacey.

"Thanks," Lacey coughed, holding her ribs where the corset was pinching. "You saved my-"

"What were you doing?" The girl blurted out, excited and curious. Lacey blinked at her. The girl stared back, smile still in place. How had this little slip of a girl managed to-

"I think I was drowning, "Lacey said darkly, eyeing her savior with a dawning comprehension.

"No, no," the girl laughed. "Before that!" The girl pointed at the rock shelf, sitting innocently a few yards away.

"Climbing?" Lacey guessed. She bent her head to the side to better wring out her hair.

"Climbing," the girl repeated, wonder coloring her tone.

Lacey glanced down at the teen. Her red hair was soaked, slicked to her scalp, falling past her shoulders to float around her in wet tendrils. "I'm Belle," Lacey offered, trying to draw the girl into conversation.

The girl smiled shyly, ducking down under the water a bit. Her hand slid down Lacey's ankle to her toes. Lacey squirmed a little at the ticklish sensation but she didn't shake her off when she realized what she was doing.

"Are you.. are you inspecting my feet?" She asked. Caught, the girl ducked down low in the waves, her eyes the only thing staying above water. Lacey slowly drew her soaked gown to her knees, revealing her pale legs in all their unshaved glory, figuring the girl wouldn't know the difference anyway.

The girl bobbed back up, bare chest coming out of the water. Lacey tried to ignore the girl's naked breasts as they appeared occasionally at the surface, trying (and failing) not to be jealous of a teenager.

She was feeling Lacey's calves, sneaking her fingers up to her knees. Lacey sniggered and twitched her leg at the ticklish sensation. The girl shrank back at first but when she realized it was laughter she joined in, ticking at the spot behind her knees again. "Stop," Lacey giggled, annoyed at her body's traitorous response. "It tickles."

"Tickles?" The girl repeated, marveling at the word. She repeated it and giggled in mimicry of Lacey.

"It's when you – it's an odd feeling you get and you respond by laughing," Lacey explained awkwardly, not sure how to describe it.

The girl nodded, tracing up higher to the hidden curve of her thighs. Lacey laughed, stopping her from inching higher. "You do that, you'll have to buy me dinner," she teased. The girl blinked at her in confusion, bending her head down to get a closer look and Lacey flipped her skirts down over her legs.

"Seriously, stop," she said, waving a finger before realizing she was mimicking the Imp and quickly put her hand back down into the folds of her skirt.

The girl blinked up at her, unsure but respectful. Lacey slid back a bit so her feet were out the water. She looked back up at the castle, staying silent. She knew the girl was desperate to ask the questions hovering on the edge of her tongue.

Finally, "Do you live in the castle?" the girl asked, swimming closer to the reef. Her uncertainty was fading in the light of her overriding curiosity.

"I'm visiting," Lacey replied truthfully, glancing down. "Apparently, there's a ball for the Prince to find a bride." The teen's eyes lit up, hope and anticipation shining. She practically had hearts in her eyes. Lacey continued, glancing away. "Seems all the eligible noblewomen of Fae are coming in the hopes of being chosen as his future Queen."

"Oh," the girl muttered dejectedly, bobbing in the waves.

"But I'm not here for that," Lacey continued. The girl smiled brightly, relieved.

"You're here to climb?" she asked. Lacey opened her mouth to answer but smiled when she caught the girl's eyes and realized she was teasing her.

"No," Lacey shot back, crossing her legs. The girl's eyes flickered down at the sudden motion. Trying not to roll her eyes in amusement, Lacey good-naturedly raised her skirts to show the girl her legs again. The girl didn't touch this time. She nodded solemnly, letting Lacey lower them back in place.

"What _are_ you here for?" the redhead asked. The waves were pushing her around but the girl seemed unconcerned.

Lacey took a breath, trying to figure out the best way to word this without scaring the mermaid away. She spared a moment to think how stupid she had been, almost drowning. And how lucky she had been, being saved by the very mermaid she was looking for. She could practically hear The Imp laughing.

She pushed the thought away. She was spending much too time thinking about the insane little leprechaun. She wondered if it was delayed Stockholm syndrome.

"Belle?" Said the timorous voice from below. Lacey shook her head to dismiss her train of thought.

"Sorry, just- day dreaming I guess." The girl opened her mouth in confusion but Lacey pushed on. "Actually," Lacey exclaimed, turning towards her. "I was looking for you."

"Me?" the girl squeaked, pushing away a bit but not disappearing underwater.

"Yea," Lacey said, nodding. She thought quickly, scolding herself for not having come up with something sooner. The bracelet glinted in the sunlight on her wrist and she found herself saying, "Well, someone who can help me in my quest really."

The girl was silent, staring at her incredulously. She seemed wary now, slowly backing away into the waves. "Don't be afraid," Lacey urged. "I know you're a mermaid."

The girl bobbed lower in the waves, eyes flickering towards the open sea.

"And I know you saved Prince Eric," Lacey threw out, desperate for time. The girl swung her eyes back to her, pushing out of the sea to swim closer to her again.

"You know Prince Eric?" she asked in excitement. "Is he kind? Is he as good a prince as he seems? Is he smart? Does he like crabs?"

Lacey laughed in the face of the questions, fingering her tiara. She felt the mermaid's eyes move to it, taking it in again.

"I'm Ariel," the mermaid offered, tucking her hair behind her ear bashfully.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ariel." The two smiled at each other. The summer sun beamed down on them and the occasional bird called overhead.

After a minute or so, Ariel seemed to come to a decision. She pushed her arms up, pulling herself up on to the coral reef, reddening a bit in exertion. Her arms were paler than her shoulders but her chest and belly were stark white. Lacey helped her up to let her sit beside her. She tried to avoid looking at her new companion's uncovered chest by staring at the long scaled emerald green tail, forked at the bottom with thin webs. The scales were gleaming in the sunlight and the sun bounced off the water below it, backlighting it. Lacey couldn't take her eyes off it. She felt her own fingers itch in curiosity. She promptly buried them in the crooks of her arms, striving to behave like a rational adult instead of an awe struck teenager.

"Is it wonderful at the castle?" Ariel was asking, slightly breathy. Lacey turned to answer and stopped, eyes catching the gills that were set along Ariel's rib cage. They fluttered, trying to suck oxygen out of the air, flapping feebly. Lacey blinked slowly at them. Ariel gave her a funny look. "Belle?"

"I just arrived," Lacey confessed, crossing her legs. She watched Ariel's eyes follow them. "I came from my land far, far away only to end up on these shores. My ship was lost at sea and I only survived thanks to this-" She gestured to her bracelet. "And now my quest –"

"A quest?" Ariel asked, scooting closer, her tail slapping the rocks.

"A very serious quest to find the famed Giant Squid," Lacey finished dramatically. She turned to find Ariel looking at her oddly.

"Why?" Ariel asked, leaning closer. "He's just an old squid, barely does anything but float along the tides these days."

"You know about him?" Lacey asked, curiously. Ariel shrugged.

"I know of him." She sighed, looking up at the castle. "How funny. You want to go to sea and I want to go to the castle."

"Oh!" Lacey cried, faking a sudden moment of brilliance. Ariel's eyes widened at her, leaning closer in interest. "That's it! I have a wonderful idea!" Ariel tilted her head prettily, her long red hair falling forward, water droplets coursing down her chest.

"But you can go to the castle!" Lacey cried, grasping the girl's hands in her own. Ariel's hands were pruned and small, delicately boned.

"How?" Ariel cried, squeezing her hands in excitement. "Oh, I'd do anything!"

"This!" Lacey said, pulling her hand free to gesture to the golden wristlet. Its reflections winked back at them from the waves.

Ariel's eyes widened to saucers and her mouth dropped open. She clutched at Lacey's wrist in passionate curiosity, hoisting it up to look closely, eyes reflecting the trinket.

Lacey waited for a moment, letting the girl gaze before she lowered it back to her side. Ariel's eyes followed it like a parrot.

"It's a protective token for sea travelers," she explained, unclasping it and removing it from her wrist. "It's how I survived my shipwreck. But for sea creatures, it holds a completely different power."

"What?" Ariel breathed, gills quivering in excitement. "What does it do?"

"It can give you legs," Lacey whispered conspiratorially.

As she watched the young mermaid's face light up in unforeseen hope, Lacey privately congratulated herself on how easy this had been. She was already looking forward to rubbing it in The Imp's face that she had managed to accomplish his little assignment in less than twenty-four hours.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**I hope everyone enjoyed getting to meet Jiminy (he'll be back along with Gepetto and Pinocchio) and I hope everyone is good and curious as to his dual appearance. It's a big key to how things work at Fae- we will learn more next chapter as Ariel comes to shore. **

**And I hope you all enjoyed getting to meet Ariel! I had fun writing the little scamp (and yes, I did go with teen Ariel instead of the slightly older OuaT Ariel- but I'm trying to keep OuaT's bubbly inquisitiveness in character – but I just loved the dynamic of a younger girl with Lacey as opposed to someone more her age.. )**

**Interested in Gepetto's cottage? Check out my inspiration images here: post/101810502592/inspiration-for-gepettos-cottage-stills-from**

**And yes sorry no Eric or Rumple in this one but- I wanted the girls to get to know each other a bit. **

**Thank you to Ehann for the kind review! I honestly feel like a kid at Christmas when someone takes the time to leave a review- so thank you so much for that!**

**Also warm welcome to Wandering princess, auntpsy and PiratePushcake! **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

In retrospect, the whole deal had gone off without a hitch.

For a bag of the Giant Squid's ink (which Lacey supposed to have some sort of unknown magical quality based off the lengths The Imp was going to acquire it), the mermaid would be allowed the usage of the magical talisman for three days. She would be granted her deepest desire: to walk on land and attend the Royal Ball.

The catch? Ariel would lose her voice for her legs- a way of balancing the magic at work in the young woman.

Ariel had barely hesitated before she had dove off the rock, promising she would return before the sun set.

And now, the horizon was streaked with pink and purple. The sun was setting in a beautiful riot of colors and Ariel still had not returned to the secluded cove.

Lacey had been waiting all afternoon. At first, she had been lying in the sun drying off in the warm sunshine but she had started to overheat in her now stifling gown, pulling at it irritability as she brushed sand off her back. She was now a sticky, sweaty mess where the tight corset pinched her waist. Lacey plucked at it in a frustrated annoyance, eager to burn the hated undergarment as soon as she got it off.

Grimsby had not reappeared, obviously too busy with the preparation for the ball to remember the emotional Princess he had left in the cove.

Lacey was grateful for the oversight. She wasn't exactly sure how she would have explained being completely drenched from her impromptu swim or why she was still sitting on a beach over an hour later.

Drawing lines in the sand with her toes, Lacey was wondering if she had put too much faith in the young girl before she heard a sudden voice calling out, "Belle!"

Lacey turned at the shout. Ariel was bobbing near the rock shelf she had fallen off earlier. Pushing to her feet, Lacey slipped her way down to it again, the hot sand burning her bare feet.

"Did you get it?" Lacey asked, pulling herself up to the rock, carefully scooting out to where Ariel was swimming.

"Of course," Ariel replied cheerfully, pulling a large wet bag from a strap around her chest. Lacey reached out to take it from the mermaid. Ariel surged forward to hand over her prize, the water slapping up around her.

The odd bag was made of a rubbery material. The strap made of some kind of fibrous seaweed wrapped together to form a strong, stretchy wrap. Lacey swished it, hearing a bubbly liquid's gurgling answer within. She grinned down at Ariel, who was smiling nervously back.

"That was fast," Lacey said in relief. She pulled the golden trinket off her wrist. It was warm from her skin and the sun. Ariel's eyes followed it. "So, to activate it, all I need to do is-" Lacey uncorked the rubbery bag. The dark liquid inside smelled vaguely of gasoline and seafood. She wrinkled her nose, before dropping the bracelet into the inky lack liquid. The bracelet sank into the magical ink with a plop Ariel released a small cry of dismay, but Lacey shushed her. "It's fine, it needs to soak the ink up, some kind of catalyst."

Ariel was already opening her mouth in question and Lacey glanced over with a wry grimace. "It needs to use the Ink's magic to recharge. I used most of the magic in it to make it here safely." Ariel nodded in understanding, biting the inside of her cheek as she stared up at Lacey and the bag.

"We're lucky that you were able to get some of this." Lacey confided as she peered down into the bag. She missed the guilty look that shadowed Ariel's face. "I had heard it's nearly impossible to find."

"I collect things," Ariel admitted, soft hands tickling Lacey's bare feet. "I have a grotto a few leagues from here. Mostly just things from the world up above."

The bag was slowly collapsing as the ink absorbed into the bracelet per the Imp's transference spell. Lacey hoped he was standing gob smacked as squid ink slowly appeared at the Dark Castle. She had found some dark satisfaction in picturing his face, pinched and gaping in astonishment.

When all the ink was depleted, Lacey pulled out the bracelet. She laid the bag aside. The setting sun traced the delicate pattern of the piece of jewelry. The once unadorned gold shone brightly in the light off the water but now delicate lines of black filigree were etched all over, creating a beautiful dark design. Lacey turned down to the mermaid, large green eyes wide in anticipation.

Lacey paused for effect, eyes lifting towards the setting sun before back to the castle. "Ariel, are you sure you want to do this?" Ariel nodded feverishly, water slapping around her. "Even with the catch?"

Ariel smiled at her, slightly bemused. "All magic comes with a price," Ariel intoned in a matter of fact tone bordering on cheekiness. She shrugged her tanned shoulders. "The chance to walk upon the sand, to stand before Prince Eric- just for the chance of one dance with him," she sighed, eyes bright with a fearful hope. "I'd give up anything for it."

"But your voice?" Lacey asked, shuddering. She remembered all too well her brief horrid stint as a voiceless mute at the Imp's delight. "How are you going to say anything to him?"

"I'll have you, of course" Ariel bubbled, tapping her foot. "You will stay and help me for the three nights, won't you?"

Lacey opened her mouth to reply in the negative but then stopped. She was unsure the Imp's plans, she had almost expected him to pop in as soon as the young mermaid had delivered the prize. Lacey was not looking forward to playing translator for a lovesick teenager but she was also not ready to disappear back into the bowels of the Dark Castle.

She found to her surprise, she was nodding. She shrugged her shoulders a bit, "Yea, sure. I'll stay. But Ariel, there's no guarantee you'll get to actually meet him, you know. And it's not like he'll fall in love at first sight-"

Ariel was staring at her with that odd look Lacey was learning to recognize. Ariel was young, naïve and a little cheerful for her tastes but she had a stubborn streak. Lacey could respect that. She stopped short, shaking her head. "I just don't know if you understand what you lose if he doesn't return your feelings."

"I'll go back to being a mermaid .My voice lost forever," Ariel clarified. Her red hair was floating out behind her, the thick strands glowing in the sunset.

"And you're okay with that?" Lacey pressed. Ariel had to be in her teens. Lacey knew she herself had made some really questionable decisions in her high school years- but the idea of throwing away your voice at a shot of a guy asking you to the dance seemed a little dramatic.

"Belle," Ariel giggled. "This is the only chance I'll have to find if it's true love. I have to take it. You understand that right?"

"Okay…" Lacey agreed hesitatingly, lowering the charmed bracelet to Ariel who took it reverently. "If this is what you really want."

Ariel held it carefully in her fingers, flipping it over to fiddle with the clasp lock. "So, I just put it on?" She asked.

"Yea, but here, let's get you out of the water before you do, I'm not sure you're going to know how to swim with legs. They work a little different. "

The girls managed to get Ariel on the rock, gills fluttering sporadic in protest as Ariel struggled to breath. Lacey caught herself staring at the gleaming scales, the muscles rippling underneath as Ariel righted herself. The sun was disappearing under the horizon now but Ariel continued to fiddle with the accessory, eyes clouded in thought.

They were both startled when a faint but distinct "Princess Belle!" floated down the staircase.

"Oh he noticed I'm still here!" Lacey groused. She turned to Ariel. "Quickly!"

Ariel hurriedly clasped the bracelet on, wincing a bit when the latch snapped closed. Nothing happened. Lacey's brow furrowed in puzzlement as she glanced down at Ariel. "Why isn't it working?" She hissed, bending down and seizing Ariel's forearm.

Ariel opened her mouth to reply just as the last rays of the sun disappeared, casting them in shadows from the cliffs overhead. A glittering light suddenly pierced the shadows, emitting from the bracelet. The golden aura slowly trailed up Ariel's arm, illuminating her young face in its bright glow.

Down it spread to her shoulders sneaking down her chest, the gills closing with a loud, unpleasant popping sound. Ariel suddenly took in a large gasp, clutching at Lacey as her lungs inflated with air. Ariel's eyes were petrified. Her mouth opened in a pained scream but nothing escaped her lips.

"Ariel?" Lacey soothed, despite her own growing panic. She pushed the wet hair out of the girl's face. "Ariel, it's fine, it's just the magic-"

Ariel's hands had shot to her throat, panic taking over. Lacey tried to sooth her but she was unable to take her eyes off the glowing spreading down to the delicate fin. The forked tail splitting upwards as legs formed from the emerald scaled tail. Ariel was shivering violently from the change. Her body arched upright in a sudden spasm as the new muscles took hold and her mouth opened again in a mute scream of agony. Lacey stood rooted to the spot, her hands absently rubbing the young girl's shoulders. He hadn't warned her it would hurt. He hadn't told her-

With a final shudder from the little mermaid, Ariel collapsed in Lacey's arms, clutching at her. Tears were coursing down her cheeks as she silently sobbed into Lacey's neck.

"Princess Belle!" Came a panicked voice from behind them. Lacey turned to find Grimsby and another manservant racing across the beach to them. Lacey was grateful they had been turned away from the shore; she doubted they had seen the last glowing coals of magic in the dusky twilight from their current vantage point on the beach.

"Help!" She called back, supporting the smaller girl's weight the best she could.

With the assistance of the two men, both looking pointedly away from the naked young woman, they managed to get her to the sand. Ariel seemed better and she struggled to stand on her own with the new limbs. She shook and wobbled like a colt, eyes glued to her new appendages with a reverent awe.

"I don't understand," Grimsby was saying dazedly. "Where did she come from?"

"The Lady Ariel was one of my party," Lacey lied smoothly, reaching out to steady the girl who almost fell turning to look at her. "I had thought her lost at sea with all the others but the sea has returned her to me!" Lacey paused again, dashing away pretend tears from her eyes. "I was thanking the sea for my safety when I found her washed up in the cove. She's too traumatized to speak and I've been unable to move her from the rocks."

Ariel's hair dripped down her face, mingling seawater with her tears as she watched Lacey. Grimsby coughed pointedly and waved a gloved hand at the other man who hurriedly began to unbutton his coat. Ariel smiled up at the manservant as he wrapped her in his jacket. He smiled back nervously, taking a step away from her and fixing his gaze back on Grimsby. Ariel, distracted from the narrative began to flip the collar and toy with the buttons, a small smile spreading across her face.

"It is truly miraculous," Grimsby managed, eyes sweeping over the redhead who was now gleefully playing with the tassels on the collar. "Your Royal Majesty finding one of her own party in this secluded cove. We will find the Lady Ariel quarters suitable to her-"

"She will stay with me," Lacey ordered, taking the teen's arm. Ariel nodded hurriedly in affirmation. "Sir, can you help carry the Lady Ariel? She is weak from her ordeal and the stairs…" Lacey gestured helplessly at the long flight before them.

The manservant silently nodded, sweeping Ariel up and walking slowly up the stairs, the small girl barely a feather in his arms. Grimsby bowed Lacey ahead of him. As they neared the stairs, she turned to him with a small smile of apology.

"You must think us terribly inconvenient," she remarked sadly. "A Princess in rags and a Lady without a stick of clothes washing up on your shores…."

"Not at all, Your Royal Highness," Grimsby replied smoothly. His eyes barely flickered to her ruined gown, although he obviously noted she had gone for another swim in it. "The Queen has sent her personal dressmakers to your room for fittings, Princess Belle," he said. "I trust you will find them more than adequate."

"Thank you," Lacey responded, heading upwards behind Ariel. Lacey glanced down at her tattered, filthy gown hoping for a bath before dinner started. "Her Majesty is too kind."

xXxXx

A short time later, Lacey closed the door firmly behind the departing royal maids before sliding down its length to a heap on the floor, legs sprayed out from the soft robe she was wearing.

Ariel watched with interest. Then, she went up to a nearby wall and slowly slid down as well until she landed in a similar position, grinning excitedly over at Lacey at her success.

Offering a half-hearted nod at the easily amused newly legged girl, Lacey slumped her head back to bang on the door, repeating it a few times for good measure. She ignored the answering thump as Ariel mimicked her from across the room.

_What a nightmare_, she thought darkly. The dressmakers had practically ripped her destroyed dress off her. Rambling on about her rough treatment of such a fine gown and shooting her dark looks at the ragged hem and sea drenched corset.

Yet the same harridans had cooed over Ariel! They had petted her and removed the enormous jacket, giggling and openly commenting over the young girl's nubile body. Ariel's muscular tail had resulted in a pair of finely formed thighs and calves, delicate feet and a small firm behind. Her already tone stomach and substantial breasts made her teenage body the envy of every older woman there, including Lacey. She had been grateful at finally getting the corset off but was quickly let feeling unfit in comparison. She had just been lounging and eating at the Dark Castle, she privately acknowledged, her rounded stomach staring up at her as she pulled her gown on.

All the same, Lacey had to yank Ariel's hand away from her new womanly bits a few times. The others too busy praising the young girl's gorgeous hair to notice Ariel's curious touching.

"The poor dear," they had simpered when they realized Ariel couldn't speak. "Losing her voice from all that tragedy." "It's all so romantic, traveling all this way and to be separated at sea only to reunite at a castle across the ocean!"

Lacey had been grateful for the gossip. Nothing spread news faster than gossiping matrons. She nodded for Ariel to go along as well. The redhead bobbed in agreement vigorously, tangled and knotted hair flying. Causing the maids to cluck nervously as they reached for their combs and scissors.

Ariel had been fascinated by the entire process, swirling in circles in her skirts much to the amusement of everyone, bending and kneeling at random, jumping up and down in excitement, constantly prodding at her own bare legs as she was measured and fitted.

Lacey was on edge and frustrated as she tried to keep Ariel in line. She was constantly plucking the girl's hands away from sharp objects like pins and scissors. Keeping her from tumbling out of the window they opened to let in some fresh air from the dusk. The others shot her disapproving looks as she hissed at Ariel to stay still. Lacey wound up biting her tongue, wincing whenever the girl came dangerously close to catching herself on fire or knocking over tables. She was deeply regretting her agreement to stay on and help the daft girl. Surely, The Imp would appear soon and order her back any moment? The idea that she actually wouldn't mind his arrival soured her mood further. She was far and away from acting like the royal she should be imitating. But who was she to know what royals acted like here. All she had was The Imp's snide comments about pure at heart princesses.

A flash of memory rose up unbidden. Emma and her eating hamburgers and fries- the blonde laughing at a rude joke one of the jail regulars had told them earlier, chewing happily into her usual order. Emma, who had turned out to be a fairy tale Princes, had ever acted much like one. She watched, sitting quietly by the open window to let the salty air cool her rubbed red skin from her earlier bath.

That had been an experience. Lacey grinned, wondering what Emma would say if she ever got back to Storybrooke. Ever got to tell her about the time she played Princess.

The maids finally finished combing out and styling the tangled sea salt enriched air of the teen. They turned to Lacey, taking in the oily curls and salt soaked dead ends. They artfully powdered the brown locks with a formula of some kind before rubbing it in. They styled it high on her head in an elegant twist, pinning her tiara in. The oldest artfully curled the small hairs at the back of her neck," The men will have a hard time tonight." She predicted, pulling a pin from her mouth. "Poor fools won't know which of you to look at."

"The whole castle is abuzz about you," Another said from across the room, collecting the various soaps and perfumes. "The two shipwrecked ladies who even the sea thought too beautiful to keep." Ariel met Lacey's amused stare and tried to hide her own laughter by ducking her head down. "Why, some are even saying you must be mermaids to have survived such a thing!"

This time, Lacey did laugh as Ariel blushed bright red, shaking her head in vehement denial. Ariel's hair had been left down, coursing over her back in voluminous waves, shining gloriously in the candlelight. Her hair had been pinned to the left in the front. It gave her sweeping bangs over her forehead. The simple hairstyle called attention to her large eyes and framed her sweetheart face nicely. "Calm down, love." The maid had laughed, petting Ariel's arm. "I'm only joking with you."

One poor maid had been tasked to pluck her overgrown brows. Ariel had smacked her hand away in surprised protest at the painful process. Lacey had to let the girl clean her own brows up before Ariel would sit still and allow them to do the same. She shot a betrayed glance under her lids at Lacey all the same.

With a few pinches of rouge and lipstick, the two were deemed ready to get dressed. The maids had left for the moment, giving the ladies a moment to breath after the whirlwind of poking and prodding.

Barely after Lacey slid the door shut behind the busybodies and their pins and needles, a knock on the door echoed in their room. Ariel scrambled up, robe gaping open as she hurried over to help Lacey up off the floor to let in their guest.

Two new maids had brought up the gowns the dressmakers had decided on for the two visiting royals. Another girl was seen behind them, carrying hoops and corsets, laces and garters with shoes in her free hand.

Lacey nearly groaned when they approached her with the corset. She turned all the same, understanding this was de rigor of life as a princess. No wonder Emma had been such a fan of jeans and t-shirts…

Poor Ariel had been gasping for air by the end of it, twisting behind to look what was going on. She wiggled in discomfort until one of the dressmakers had whacked her on the shoulder to stand still. Ariel's eyes had gone wide in wounded surprise.

"Hey," Lacey called out, frowning. "Take it easy, she's just overwhelmed-"

"A lady," the woman grunted, ignoring Lacey, "does not fidget!"

Ariel huffed in annoyance, her bangs stirring about her face. Lacey looked over at her, shrugging her shoulders to show she had tried. Ariel grimaced back, pulling a face in return.

And now, dressed and powdered, they were waiting for the call to dinner.

Lacey twisted and plucked her formal ball gown, a long golden gown with sweeping skirts and hoops underneath it. It was soft brocade, detailed and layered on the hips to give it a fuller look with delicate straps around her upper arms, her shoulders bare. Plucking the sweetheart neckline up a bit, she readjusted her tiara out of restlessness.

Ariel was standing in front of a mirror, swirling her skirts with her hips. She had been dressed in a sea foam green ball gown, skirts slightly less full than the Princess Belle's.

Over the full skirt, a sheer glittering material lay, giving depth to the matte color of the gown. The top corset disappeared down into a v from the sweetheart neckline, a small purple gem sitting at her sternum.

Ariel was now plucking at the sleeves in annoyance as they slid down. She had large puffs of material at her shoulders. It tapered to a darker green, the same translucent as the top layer of her gown, disappearing down into an elegant cuff on her wrist.

"Want to trade?" Lacey joked, crossing the room. Her hoop skirt nearly knocked over the small footstool by the bed. Ariel shook her head in a negative, plucking her sleeves up as they tried to slide down again.

"Okay, remember," Lacey said, trying to figure out how to sit in the ball gown. "We're from the Fourth Kingdom, do you know where that is?"

Ariel rolled her eyes, pointing over the ocean in question.

"Yea, okay, just making sure. Remember, our ship went down and I washed up on shore here yesterday. And then found my dear friend and companion Lady Ariel at the cove today, having lost her voice in the terrible accident at sea." Ariel nodded in solemn understanding before pointing at Lacey and sinking into an odd bow. "No, ladies curtsey," Lacey corrected her, showing her the deep curtsy she had used for the queen. "The men bow."

Ariel repeated the movement. Lacey nodded in approval, the girl was a fast learner.

"Now, just watch me at dinner. Use the same utensils I use to eat. Don't touch anything unless you know what to do with it, okay? That goes for food too, certain things you don't eat- like bones."

Ariel gave her a sharp look in exasperation, Lacey shrugging at her. "Just want to make sure we're on the same page. Also, there's going to be something called wine or mead there, don't drink it. You've never had alcohol before I'm guessing?"

Ariel wrinkled her forehead at her in response. Lacey nodded. "Yea, don't drink anything but the water. Now, then, after dinner, there will be dancing-"

Ariel twirled in a circle, skirt spinning before spiraling to a stop, panting silently and grinning.

"Wait for someone to ask you to dance, and then follow his lead, okay?" Ariel shrugged in acceptance, pouting prettily. Lacey pressed hers together, trying not to be jealous of a teenage mermaid's perfect figure and angelic like features. She had no doubt a few men in attendance tonight wouldn't' care at all that the redheaded beauty wasn't a princess.

"Anything else?" Lacey mused, ticking off her fingers. "Dinner, dancing, you'll sleep here with me of course-"

Ariel wiggled a bit, Lacey ignoring her as she tried to think what she was forgetting. "We already discussed not touching yourself or others. Most people like to be respectful of boundaries and personal space which is-"

Ariel was now shifting her weight, face puckered in thoughtfulness when Lacey recognized the symptoms. "Ariel- don't! Hold on, I need to- have you seen the chamber pot? Oh never mind- just hold it until I can find it!"

XxXxX

By the time they sat down at the royal table, Lacey was fried.

Ariel, ball of energy that she was, was sitting to her right, quietly enthralled with the silverware and dishes. She was tracing the wooden table's underbelly. Lacey reached over and took her hand under the table, squeezing it to remind Ariel to focus.

Ariel squeezed back, taking the contact as a reassuring gesture. Lacey just barely managed to avoid sighing in frustration. Barely.

"All rise for their Majesties King Hans and Queen Christiana of the Fourth Kingdom and his Royal Highness, Prince Eric."

A fanfare of trumpets covered the scuffing as the party around the long table stood to attention. The royal family entered from the grand hall, the King holding his wife's arm, Prince Eric trailing behind them looking abashed. She heard Ariel's breath catch, the girl rising slightly up on her toes for a better look. Lacey gently pressed her shoulder down, keeping her eyes on the royal family.

As one of many visiting royals, Lacey had expected them to place Princess Belle and Lady Ariel at the far end of the table away from the Royal Family and the other royals in attendance. But their tragic story had made them interesting dinner companions and they were only a few seats away from the head of the table. People were whispering and pointing at them as the Royal Family took their seats. The King nodded, signaling everyone else to be seated as well.

As soon as the Royal Family was settled, a flurry of activity from the kitchen started to circulate down the table length. There were servants pouring wine and water in cups while others carefully laid out napkins on everyone's laps.

Lacey was grateful she noticed it before the man appeared at her elbow, certain she would have jumped. Ariel was tugging her napkin in confusion, nudging Lacey's foot in question.

"Keep it in your lap," she whispered, pretending to fix her own napkin. "It's to keep anything from spilling.'

Ariel looked confused still but she put the napkin back down, reaching for her wine glass. Lacey coughed. Ariel corrected herself and took the water glass instead as the table raised a toast to the health of the King.

"Thank you all for coming," he boomed, standing and clasping a hand on the shoulder of his only son to his right.

"As you know, Eric is now of marriageable age and his mother and I look forward to his announcing his bride on the morning after the third evening's festivities."

Eric looked away at this, staring over at his mother in obvious frustration. His mother smiled kindly at him but turned back to her husband. Eric shook his head, long black locks flopping into his brown eyes. He jerked his head in that typical male way, shaking the locks back in place.

His father was still speaking. "We are honored to have so many lovely women in attendance tonight and thank you for making the long trip here to be our guests." His eyes flashed down to Lacey and Ariel, before continuing. "But for now, enjoy the feast and we shall see you at the ball!"

Eric turned to glance down the table, stopping when he noticed Lacey watching him. He was handsome, Lacey had to admit. He was tall, broad shouldered with biceps under his fitted white shirt. His cuffs were pushed up in a un-prince like way. The coronet of his station also noticeably absent from his hair. Lacey also taken a moment during his entrance to admire his tight backside and powerful thighs in his snug breeches and high black polished boots.

His brown eyes flickered to the tiara in her hair. Slowly, he inclined his head in a resigned polite gesture of acknowledgment of her station. She surprised him by pulling a face of bored amusement, rolling her eyes at the party.

He grinned, showing off his white teeth that were just a bit crooked. But the small flaw only made him more endearing. His cleft chin was dimpled when he grinned. He was younger than she had been expecting, barely college age by the look of him.

He looked away as his neighbor started to talk to him, gesturing pointedly with their fork. Lacey turned to Ariel to tease her about Prince Hunk when she realized Ariel was looking down at her plate, eyes wide and lips shaking.

"Ariel?" She asked, nudging her with her shoulder. "Is everything okay?"

Ariel nodded, jerking slightly as the salad course was delivered to the table. Lacey picked up her salad fork, grateful for that article she had helped research on cotillions, waiting for Ariel to follow suit.

Dinner passed in the same fashion, Ariel barely lifting her gaze from the table.

A few souls around them spoke to them, asking about their home, the journey. Most were fishing for details about their disastrous sea journey but Lacey artfully twisted their questions to avoid the subject, thanking them for their interest.

Ariel's pretty blushes were noticed by a few men on the other side of the narrow table, each addressing a comment or two to her whenever possible.

Throughout the evening, Ariel ate very little of her soup or salad but almost attacked the fish they served for the entrée. She was halfway to carrying the whole thing to her mouth when Lacey kicked her under the table, prompting her to drop it with a splat back on her plate. A few women murmured at the end of the table, but the man closest to them laughed, claiming he liked a girl with an appetite. Lacey flashed him a smile, silently noting to keep an eye on him.

When the Queen rose, the entire table did as well, chairs scraping backwards and forks clattering to the table.

"If everyone is done, please follow us into the grand hall where there is music, drinks and seating for those who may want to relax after their meal. For the younger folks and those still young at heart-" a man down at the end called out "here, here" much to the amusement of the table. "We will start the dancing. If you'll follow us, let us begin the festivities."

A polite clapping followed as the King led his Queen away, Eric trailing after them.

More guests were scheduled to come throughout the evening, guests who were not staying at the castle. Lacey was curious to see if any good looking slightly more mature men may attend someone else's betrothal ball. Eric was a dish, no question. But Lacey was almost ten years older than him and she had never been one for younger men.

"Let's go," Lacey motioned to Ariel, heading with the crowd towards the hall. She halted when Ariel reached out to squeeze her hand, pulling her to a stop. She turned to look at the young girl, asking "Ariel, what's wrong?"

Ariel's lips were quivering, eyes welling with tears. She shook her head frantically. "You're going to be fine," Lacey soothed. She was eager to see the ballroom. Elegantly dressed knights and ladies pushed past them, a dull constant noise as the party adjourned.

Ariel looked longingly at the door, beautifully dressed women barely managing to avoid running after the Prince. "Oh, them?" Lacey laughed, watching one silly goose nearly trip over her hem in her high heels. Lacey had managed to convince their maids earlier to allow them to wear soled slippers, not trusting Ariel to know how to walk properly in shoes, much less high heels.

"I promise," Lacey promised, eyes lingering on the door as more people emptied out of the dining hall. She was eager to get Ariel introduced to the young prince and out of her hair for a bit. "You'll be fine."

Ariel looked up at her in uncertainty and Lacey huffed in laughter. "You've already saved a Princess from drowning, turned into a human and had every inch of you pinched and prodded. "This," Lacey said, indicating the people around them. "This is nothing."

Ariel hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly, letting Lacey pull her along towards the door and her prince.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Oh wow, two updates in a week! **

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter- I had a lot of fun writing Ariel and Lacey. And I hope you enjoyed reading them! I know a few of you may be slowly looking around for signs of The Imp but fear not- he will be back soon. But you know he has his own business to take care of. And plus, more excuse for the ladies to bond! **

**If you are curious about the ball gowns- I based the ladies first evening ball gowns on the typical Disney princess gowns that Belle and Ariel are seen wearing in the Princess Line. Belle's is obviously her famed golden gown and Ariel's is one not seen in her movie- but the green one she now wears in most licensing. **

**But here are the counterparts I researched to fit them based on 1890 style that is the Seventh Realm's current fashion: post/101956013017/fashion-plate-for-ariel-pale-green-silk-faille**

**Next chapter, I'll share more on the castle. I based it off the Frederiksborg Castle in Hillerod, Denmark. We haven't heard much about it yet as Lacey is still dealing with the whole Mermaid thing. But it's beautiful and awe inspiring. **

**Welcome to KyteByte and Alicat712! Glad you are enjoying the story!**

**ZizhunWriter- you'll actually find out in the next chapter! Well, I plan on you finding out in the next chapter but I always start writing a chapter, have every intention on it being about 10 pages or so and it then it spawns into a 20 pager and I have to cut it down. Well, I just couldn't bring myself to cut down the previous chapter- (18 pages!) but this one is just 12 pages of bonding goodness. **

**As always, no beta means more problems. So, DM me and let me know if you see any or if you know of anyone looking for a story to beta. **

**I want to thank everyone who is reading- as a fledgling writer, all the reviews, follows and favorite mean the world to me and inspire me to keep working on this- to keep reaching to better myself by telling stories that scare the daylights out of me. **

**You guys rock. **

**-B**


	11. Chapter 11

Following the throng moving towards the ballroom, Ariel and Lacey found themselves passing through an arched doorway. On either side of them, marble columns were perched atop pedestals flanking the large metal doors that were thrown open to the ballroom beyond.

With door handles shaped like dolphin fins, the doors were delicately yet ornately detailed. Two guards stood silent on either side of the door, the now familiar white and blue castle livery shining in the chandelier light. Lacey had to forcibly tug Ariel behind her as the redhead started to stop to wave to one of them. Shaking her head at the confused teen, they stepped over the threshold onto the parquet tiled ballroom floor. Ariel glanced down in wonder at the new echo her footsteps made on this flooring before she suddenly stalled. Lacey barely managed to keep her temper in check but Ariel helplessly gestured towards the sight of a few stairs leading up to the main floor of the ballroom.

They had mastered walking down the stairs with the help of Lacey on one hand and the marble railing on the other but they hadn't the time to learn going back up them. Lacey internally cursed at their luck before she turned slightly to see if there was anyone watching them.

"Excuse me, your Royal Highness."

Lacey spun to face a serving man in livery, the kingdom's golden crest on his shoulders bowing to her. She sighed in relief at the interruption and pulled Ariel out of the way of the remainder of the dinner crowd. Behind the serving man, a line of royals were standing in disinterested silence. A few stared openly at Lacey.

"Your Royal Highness, we must announce the Princess Belle of the Fourth Kingdom and her Lady Ariel, as befitting your birth. If you would be so kind to join the others, we will begin the procession without further delay."

Lacey glanced up at the stairs, noticing the music was already playing and the sounds of merriment trickling down the staircase. Even Fae had politics it would seem. She nodded tightly, as she pulled Ariel in her wake to join the royal procession.

Choosing the back of the group for privacy, Lacey managed to coral the young inquisitive mermaid past all the interested eyes. A few were sitting in chairs, others milled in groups and casually looked over but for the most part everyone seemed content to leave them alone.

All except one.

An older man suddenly appeared beside Lacey. Before she could speak, he dipped down into a graceful bow which forced her to return his greeting with a half hearted curtesy. As the gentlemen straightened, he looked into her face with a knowing smile.

Lacey recognized him. He had been further down the table at dinner. Turning to face Ariel, he gave her a deep nod, hand gesturing outwards in a sign of good will. Ariel sank into a curtsey in response. Lacey noticed she almost managed to not to tilt slightly as she tried to rise and did the newcomer.

"Your Royal Highness," he acknowledged her status with a deep baritone voice. "I am Duke Sebastian of Flounders, the heartland of the Seventh Kingdom. It is a pleasure to meet the famed beauties from the Sea of Silence. Though I find it a shame that it has lived up to it's name by stealing such a precious gift as the Lady Ariel's tongue."

Ariel scruntized him for a moment, taking in the red hair that was now striped with silver before she stuck her tongue out him.

"Ariel!" Lacey snapped in horror as the Duke burst into laughter.

"No, no, it's quite alright," he laughed, eyes locked on the now confused teen. "I suppose the Lady Ariel doesn't care much my wordplay, I shall have to remember that."

"Much as I do not care for this show of power," He motioned at the line in humored disgust. "Even once all of us are announced to the multitudes, we will in turn have to stop our fun to applaud their Royal Majesties second arrival."

Lacey frowned at that and he laughed at her frank expression.

"Yes, exactly. Thankfully, this pomp and ceremony is only for tonight. Even so, half the eligible ladies here tonight will spend most of their evening talking to other bachelors, twiddling their thumbs waiting for Prince Eric to make his appearance. "

Ariel looked crestfallen, eyes swinging towards the staircase, trying to see beyond the full skirts of the other royal waiting in line. The Duke chuckled at her, eyes fixing on Lacey. "I see that one of the lovely ladies is a fan of his royal highness," Duke Sebastian commented dryly. Lacey raised an eyebrow at him in silent challenge but he just glanced to Ariel. "You should see the boy when he isn't dressed in his formal ware- quite the build on him."

Ariel blushed prettily, ducking her face into her chest. Her red flaming hair should have made her blushes unseemly, yet they only enhanced her natural beauty. The Duke regarded at Lacey again, a keen awareness in his sharp eyes.

"As I am a poor old man with no wife of my own, may I escort the Lady Ariel into the gala this evening?" He winked at her before continuing. "I think Princess Belle and I both would quite enjoy ourselves at the expense of these other bejeweled guppies. And I have a feeling our young friend will be too busy trying to hook the main catch of the night to be much company to Your Royal Highness."

Lacey agreed with some reluctance. The Duke of Flounders seemed more than interested in her young charge, as if he didn't trust Lacey with her. Despite the uneasy between them, he had a wicked way of words about him. Lacey and the Duke exchanged a few witty barbs about the ceremonious snooze of the procession. They openly commented on names and stations being announced with trumpet and fanfare, music and joy continuing on unheeding of the pageantry. Lacey learned quite a few interesting details about their fellow royals. Ariel just stood quietly to the side, eyes floating over the side room as it began to thin out.

After an hour, Ariel was fidgeting nervously, hands wrapped in balls in the sheer netting covering her gown. The Duke leaned down graciously, plucking her fingers from the material and rubbed them between his own, "Patience, my dear," he said softly. Ariel nodded meekly in return, looking slightly ill.

Lacey felt a sting of guilt. This stranger was able to treat the girl with more patience than she could.

The announcer came forward to exchange a quiet word with the Duke as the previous fanfare for "Lady Frederiksberg of the Seventh Kingdom and her daughter, the Lady Grace" died down.

Silently, Duke Sebastian held his arm out for Ariel to take, and the trumpets roared the now familiar din as "Duke Sebastian of Flounders and Lady Ariel of the Fourth Kingdom" were announced to the crowd below. Lacey noticed a slight hush at the announcement, followed by a swell of conversation as people stated to discuss the newcomers. Apparently, the story of the mute girl found washed up on the castle shore had spread past the dinner crowd.

A woman behind her on the stairs coughed impatiently at the wait. Lacey resisted the urge to turn around and snap at her. She instead stepped forward to confirm her name and title to the announcer. She took the stairs carefully, her golden hooped skirt raised up to avoid tangling her feet in her hemline. She reached the crest of the stairs just as the trumped sounded behind her, ringing in her ears.

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Belle of the Fourth Kingdom," bellowed the courtier.

A few people turned and looked in interest but for the main part, everyone continued dancing and talking, too caught up in the evening to pay attention to the ever growing announcements of royals. Lacey was too shocked to be relieved; she stared down in abject wonder at the ballroom and completely forgot her princess behavior.

The floor beyond the stairs was covered in geometric tiled patterns, navy, whites and gold diamonds. She took a step forward before her eyes rose to gaze the ceiling above her. Every inch of it was covered in opulent detail. Lined in perfect squares, one would be flush to the ceiling, fish jumping out of blue oceans, waves curling downwards to the ballroom below. The next square would be hollow, curled up into the ceiling, painted as underwater scene, complete with fish and seashells.

Three large chandeliers were all in a line down the center of the ballroom. Golden tiers dripped down into layer after layer of shining candles, golden curricles curled around the base. Enormous diamonds shone like stars at the center of the base.

Lacey walked forward into the midst of the talking sets. A servant pressed a flute of champagne in her hand as she tried to find where the Duke and Ariel had disappeared. She had to make an effort not to gawk openly at the ornate splendor.

She couldn't get her eyes to focus properly, women in bright and detailed gowns swept gracefully around her, used to their dress girth. Men were looking at her in a familiar way as she looked past them in disinterest. She looked in the recessed window sills where a few couples were already embracing, oblivious to the few people who were watching in cheerful chagrin.

Halfway through the crush, Lacey noticed she was near the dancers. She stopped short and turned back to the entrance as the trumpets fell silent. She twisted her neck again as she tried to locate the now familiar red hair when a deep voice behind her interrupted her search.

"Princess Belle, may I assist you in some way?" She half turned, glancing over her shoulder to send the man away when her eyes fell upon a tall sandy haired stranger, blue eyes deep and guileless. Her words of dismissal died in her throat as she turned towards him armed with her most alluring smile.

"I was looking for my companions," she said with a gesture towards the crowded room. "But they seem to have abandoned me for the evening."

"A crime," he retorted. He bowed slightly at the waist, his face upturned to hers. His features were angular. A pointed chin with full pink lips and a pointed nose that turned upwards ever so slightly. She lifted her gaze to his again as she noticed in warm pleasure that his eyes were framed with impossibly long eyelashes. They were inky black, a sharp contrast to his almost blonde eyebrows.

He smiled at her obvious appraisal, sharp canines flashed briefly under his pink lips. She laughed breathlessly before she pressed closer to him under the guise of the crowd pushing forward.

This kind of dance she knew. She let herself feel the familiar sensations of attraction. This was as close to normal as she had felt in this world yet.

He steadied her, large hands with long fingers curled around her gloved forearms. He let his fingers slide up the silken gloves to the bare flesh of her inner bicep, his thumb traced the hollow of her muscle. She felt her breathing become harder, her body flushed in the heated ball room.

His upper body was muscular and lean, broad shoulders with a long neck, veins visible under the surface of his clavicle. He wore a beige jacket, tied at the waist with braided rope, a geometric rustic pattern on his under shirt, leather vest open underneath it. She glanced down, eyes fixed on the tight maroon pants before she rose them back to his intent gaze.

He was busy staring down at her flushed chest, the sweetheart neckline revealed far more to the higher vantage of her new companion. He opened his mouth to speak, his eyes dark as he leaned down when something caught his attention over her shoulder. He stepped back and released her. He gave a deep bow with a look of regret before he disappeared back into the crowd.

A tug at her elbow stirred Lacey out of the dreamy state of desire. She looked behind her to see Ariel looking at her in a glow of success, "Ah, I see you have found our missing Princess, Lady Ariel." The Duke appeared behind Ariel, his tall frame easily parted through the crowd.

"I was-" Lacey started, as she shook Ariel's hand off her and moved forward after the mysterious stranger when the trumpets sounded again, strident and ringing in the silence.

Everyone fell quiet, Lacey halted her forward momentum to turn back to the stairs.

"Their Majesties, King Hans and Queen Christiana of the Fourth Realm!"

Everyone sank down in genuflection. Lacey tried to peer over their bent forms for the handsome stranger but Ariel tugged at her skirt in dutiful reminder until she gave up and sank down as well. However, she kept her eyes tilted upwards in case he was close.

"His Royal Majesty, Prince Eric!"

Ariel now glanced up from her deep curtsey. Her balance still an issue, she almost toppled into the Duke. He straightened her without moving from his deep bow.

The Prince took the stairs at a bit of a jog. He stopped at the top and nodded to the bowing crowd before he cleared his throat. "Thank you all for your attendance tonight." His voice commanded attention. It was deep, rich and assured. He had a clipped cadence to his voice which echoed effortlessly in the room. "I am honored. Please enjoy yourself."

The music started again as the crowd rose from their bows and curtseys to talk eagerly once more. Ariel sprang upright like she was on a spring. She stood on her tip toes to see over the crowd to where Eric had been standing, barely aware she had learned a new trick.

The Duke leaned over to Lacey to whisper, "She won't have a chance at getting a private audience with the Prince tonight. Her best option is to circulate, play the crowd, let word of her reach the people pulling the strings." He nodded to where the Queen sat. Her eyes scanned the crowd, occasionally she leaned down and talking to Grimsby. The King was talking animatedly with a few older men. He ignored the crush of people unless his wife casually touched his hand to draw his attention to something or someone.

Lacey was irritable at all the red tape. She twisted back to the dancing to search the crowd for the blue eyed stranger. She barely noticed as a a young man approached Ariel. The young man bowed and asked her to dance as Ariel turned a confused face to Lacey.

When Lacey failed to look back at her companion, as she was too busy trying to find her own potential partner, the Duke nodded his blessing to her, "Return her back here when you finish."

"Your Grace," The young man agreed happily. He took her hand and pulled Ariel into the set forming. Lacey ignored them as she rose up on her toes to see into the back corners of the ballroom.

"Princess," the Duke said quietly. "It is of course, not an old man's concern, but without chaperones, you and Lady Ariel should keep an eye on each other. Many here would not hesitate to use either of you in their own schemes."

Lacey swung her attention back to him. She assessed him with a critical gaze. He stood still for her frank inspection. He simply gazed back at her in candid calm. A woman in a bright red dress, sequin like material all over the bodice came tripping by them, glass of champagne half spilled on her dress as she fumbled by.

Lacey and the Duke both turned and watched her stumble away. When they looked back at each other, both were unable to keep straight faces. Both quirked an eyebrow in ridicule at the display which broke the tension.

"Where is the Prince setting up court?" Lacey asked finally. It would seem she would have to give up on her quest to find her handsome stranger to focus on the issue at hand.

"Prince Eric hates the limelight," the Duke responded. He pointed towards a black marble structure centered on the far wall across from the windows. "Their Royal Majesties are under there, sitting in their thrones for all to see. Prince Eric, on the other hand, will be forced to dance for a majority of the evening, he should be- ah yes,"

He pointed. Lacey followed his long hand until her gaze fell upon the Prince. His coronet glittered in the candlelight directly overhead. He was dancing this set with a blonde princess in a pink gown, respectfully courteous and engaged but clearly underwhelmed with the current royal.

"He looks like he's having fun," Lacey muttered under her breath. Ariel was in a different line of a set, eyes fixed on her feet or the girl next to her. Her partner was doing his best to talk to her but she was too busy focusing to respond to his attentions.

When the dance ended, the young nobleman sulked away. Another came up and asked Ariel to dance. She readily agreed, eager to try it again. Lacey almost laughed at the girl's face when a new music number came on and the set changed to a circle, away from the previous line. She looked indignantly at the band, confused and annoyed.

"Poor thing," the Duke laughed. "You all must have different dances across the sea."

"We do," Lacey agreed, absently. She watched Eric try and sneak off the floor but an older woman stopped him to talk. She gestured at the wall flower behind her who curtseyed awkwardly in response.

"Oh look," the Duke said laughter in his voice. "The Duchess Hansberg has gotten her talons in our Prince. Her poor daughter Angelica is a sweet girl, shy, likes reading over dancing. Very smart but her mother refused to let her stay unmarried- looks like she has the prince in mind for a son-in-law."

The girl in question took Eric's offered arm, down cast face a miserable story. As they joined the set, Eric talked to her. He focused more on her than his previous partner which earned a small smile for his obviously kind words.

"Do you know the Prince?" Lacey asked. She found she enjoyed watching the dancing. She was evenly mildly grateful for the company of the Duke; some men eyed her in interest but were seemingly intimidated by the taller man and stayed away.

"Not personally, only be reputation." The two watched as Eric swung his partner in a graceful arc. He caught her around the waist which earned another small grin from the shy girl. Ariel, nearby, was smiling broadly, making up her own steps to the dance much to the amusement of her whole circle. "He's been mostly away at sea since he was of marriageable age, but the citizens of his kingdom love him."

"Just his kingdom?" She asked puzzled. She reached out to grab a glass of champagne as it floated by.

"Well, he is not well known in most of the other Kingdoms of the Realm." He glanced down at her in interest. "Is it different in the Fourth Realm? Are you familiar with Queen Snow's kingdom?"

"Fairly," Lacey lied as she took a sip. "Princess Emma and I have spent time together."

"Ah, Princess Emma," the Duke said knowingly. He took a sip of his own glass. "Now, there's a royal after Eric's own heart. More apt for heroics and a life of adventure than court games and politics. I think his parents breathed a sigh of relief when it was rumored she gave up her title for a life of adventure."

"Why?" Lacey asked. Her eyes unwittingly sought for a familiar sandy haired figure among the dancers. "It seems it would have been a good match."

"Two young royals with no interest in ruling?" The Duke shook his head. "No, they would have encouraged each other to explore, travel, seek out the unknown. The Kingdom would have fallen to disarray. There are still those who would use the distraction of the King and Queen to their advantage.'

'No," he said as he watched Eric deliver his partner back to his mother. The prince bowed to Angelica who smiled now warmly in return. "Prince Eric needs a wife who will encourage him to protect and serve, keep him steady and selfless."

"Know anyone up for that job?" Lacey asked as another older woman brazenly claimed Eric's next dance which forced him into the next round without a break.

The Duke watched as Ariel claimed her own dance partner, a shy young man who was lurking in the window sill closest to the back wall. He blushed darkly as he bowed to the beauty, who curtseyed in response. The set started up again. The Duke gestured Lacey to follow him out of the crush towards the wings.

When they settled in their new location, Lacey noticed it had a much better vantage point of the thrones as well as the dancers. She met the eyes of the Queen across the heads of the mingling party and offered a slight bob in recognition of her majesty's gaze. Queen Christiana nodded in return. She tapped Grimsby and whispered down to him. Grimsby glanced at her, a slight frown on his features but he nodded and melted away into the crowd.

"Everyone had hoped for a marriage between Prince Eric and the Princess of Gloucester in the Sixth realm, but she was in love with a youngest son away on a quest. I'm sure Prince Eric was relieved, it was more of a economic match than a romantic one."

The two continued talking. They watched as both Ariel and Eric were claimed dance after dance. Occasionally, they noticed Eric would offer a later dance, taking breaks to talk rather than dance with the women who thronged about him, always polite and charming.

"Should I go talk with his Royal Highness?" Lacey offered. She was not looking forward to two more nights of babysitting the mermaid. She idly wondered if The Imp would show up soon. She had already accomplished her mission, she saw no need for him to allow her to stay.

The Duke shook his head, "You would be just another Princess battling for his attention, better let it be more organic."

"And how am I to get a Crown Prince 's attention?" Lacey teased. She hiked her eyebrow at her companion. "Fainting spell?"

"Pardon me, Your Royal Highness," Lacey turned in surprise to her right where Grimsby stood, sweat dampened his brow in the hot ballroom. She turned to dip her head at him. She felt her tiara pinch a bit but she resisted the urge to reach up for it.

Barnes bowed to Duke Anders behind her before he turned back to her. "Her Majesty Queen Christiana would like to invite you to talk a walk in the gardens tomorrow afternoon. Will you be able to attend?"

"Yes, of course. Thank her Majesty for her kindness," Lacey responded. Her eyes rose to the Queen who was currently following Eric's movements. The Queen looked saddened as she watched Eric, a mother's concern for her only son's happiness. Grimsby bowed to her, promising to have someone call for her at her quarters mid-day before blending back into the crowd. The Duke snatched another glass of champagne for her pressing it into her empty hands.

"That's how," he said. She looked up at him in amusement. In the dim lighting, she hadn't noticed the fine lines around his eyes before.

"Are the gardens extensive?" Lacey inquired. He nodded in return, and gestured at the window behind them.

"Very, they were a gift to the King's mother from his father on their wedding day. It is a deeply meaningful past time for the Royal Family to take walks in the gardens; few are invited to walk with them."

"Shall I bring Lady Ariel?" She turned to look through the darkened windows at the garden's below.

"No, no," he shot a stern glance at a man who was moving quickly towards Lacey. She turned and stared him down as well. They both watched him back away slowly, his buck teeth disappearing as his smile faded. "See what the Queen has to say. She knows of the Lady Ariel's extraordinary return from the sea but a mere Lady –" he shrugged before he continued, "The Queen still has high hopes for her son's marriage. She is allowing the idea of ladies of noble birth but she has not yet accepted it."

"I do not plan on marrying," Lacey raised her chin in mischief. "I will be returning to my kingdom as soon as the ball ends."

"And how will you accomplish that?" The Duke laughed. "On the fins of the sea? You'll need a boat to see you home and I do not think her Majesty is going to let you escape without at least trying to marry you to her son."

"Will you excuse me?" Lacey suddenly felt rather warm. She handed her glass to the Duke and stepped away into the crush. A warm sensation was crowding her head. She felt fuzzy as if she was sinking. Like a dream she couldn't wake up from. She pushed past the dancers and headed for the back wall where she had seen a door earlier. She was so out of sorts, she didn't see Ariel trying to wave her over.

Lacey finally passed the crush of dancers. As she neared the back door, she pressed her hand to her bodice to steady herself.

"Your Royal Highness."

She lifted her head though it reeled from the champagne and heat. She found to her pleasure the strange sandy haired man before her, bent towards her in soliciting concern. "I'm fine," she waved her hand but it shook. "I just need some air-" He motioned her towards the door and followed after her as she stumbled out of the glass door onto a balcony of pale gray stone.

A few other couples were entwined on benches or in the shadows. None looked up from their own private entanglements. He guided her to a private spot nearby where she sat heavily, her breathing more and more difficult. He bent down so they were face to face, his face clouded in worry.

"Can I get you some water perhaps?" He offered, going to stand but she trapped his hand in hers and tugged him back down.

He was close enough to kiss, she thought hazily. His skin was pale but blushed from the heat, almost rose colored. Curls sprouted around his ears and around his temples, begging for someone to run their fingers through them. She felt her fingers rise, reaching for the rebellious curl close to his right ear when he captured her fingers in his own.

"Princess," he breathed. She hoped the darkness concealed her blush but she could hear the rough panting of her desire. She tried to calm her racing heart as she leaned closer to him.

"I don't know your name," she whispered, lingering just on his lips.

"Dylan," he responded, tilting his head so his lips grazed hers.

"Dylan," she whispered back. Then, she closed the gap between them and kissed him hungrily. He responded in kind. He pressed forward and tilted her head back. He took control of the kiss, keeping it modest but passionate as he teased her lips with his tongue. He dared bites on her lower lip as she clutched at his jacket, the material balled up in her hands.

She pulled him closer to her, the summer air warm against her bare skin but the dizziness wasn't fading. She felt him push against her. His arms trailed circles on her back, dipped carefully into the curls atop her head, before he tilted her backwards so he could deepen the kiss.

A high pitched giggle interrupted them. Lacey's eyes flew open as he pulled away. For a moment, she thought- but no, it was just another silly girl who had giggled nearby. Dylan, oblivious to her concern, offered his hand wordlessly. She took it and let him pull her to her feet. His dark blue eyes searched hers as he looked for an answer to his silent question.

Lacey smiled lazily. She was confident in this. She knew this game. She stepped towards the stairs leading down into the gardens below and pulled him behind her into the darkness.

* * *

"There you are," Duke Anders greeted her knowingly. His eyes took in the blushed skin and tilted tiara. Lacey raised an eyebrow at him in warning as she reached up and straightened her tiara slightly. "She was getting worried about you."

He nodded towards the dance line, where Ariel still looked fresh and young. She was silently laughing as her partner faked a trip in a complicated dance. "She had no need to be," Lacey responded as she gratefully accepted a cup of water from a silent servant. "I was merely getting some fresh air."

"You were gone for over two hours," he responded. "And from your blush, I highly doubt you were just getting air, begging your pardon, Your Royal Highness." He arched his brow at her, a knowing grin lurked at the corners of his mouth. Lacey smacked him with the back of her hand in playful outrage.

"I don't know what you mean-" she said primly but she smiled broadly as she took a sip of her water.

"If the gentleman I saw leading you outside was any indication of your whereabouts- I must say, well done, Princess. And here I was worried about Lady Ariel," he teased as he took a deep sip of his champagne.

Lacey felt a brief sense of relief at the lax morality of her new companion. Not knowing the rules of this society, she had briefly worried about someone noticing the Princess Belle disappearing outside with a man of no title but judging by how look it had taken them to find a place in the gardens- the Seventh Kingdom had no such problems with prudishness.

She felt a yawn tickling the back of her throat and she raised her gloved hand to her mouth. The crowd had thinned out. Prince Eric was now surrounded by women closer to the thrones. He looked exhausted as he nodded but did not say much. She noticed the King and Queen had departed as well as most the others from their dinner party.

"What time is it?" She turned towards the window.

"Near dawn," he said, just as Ariel stumbled back over. Her face split as she yawned hugely. Ariel smiled wearily at them both, her brow damp with sweat and her sleeves long ago having slipped down to her elbows.

"I should be leaving," the Duke said, bowing to the ladies. "I shall see you tomorrow." Ariel turned towards the window, concern furrowing her brow. She tugged urgently at Lacey's gloved hand.

"Are you ready to go to bed?" Lacey yawned. She was sore from the ground and the hedges but she enjoyed the languid peace from her unexpected release.

They left the ballroom to climb the stairs to their quarters on the second floor in the north wing of the castle. Ariel was practically running, her skirts in her hand as she went down the corridor. Lacey was left to hurry after her.

"Ariel, stop, what's the hurry?" Lacey complained as she fought back another yawn. As they passed a stain glassed window of a mermaid sunning on a rock, Lacey stopped to admire it. "Hey, look!" She giggled drunkenly, oblivious to the young girl's growing panic. "It's you!"

Ariel came running back to grab at her hand and pulled her slightly tipsy and very tired guardian behind her as she made it to their rooms.

"Okay, okay," Lacey grumbled as they tumbled into their chambers. She reached up to take the tiara off her head. The pressure from the heavy crown was giving her a headache and she massaged her head in relief as she plucked it down.

Ariel grabbed it from her. She threw it to a nearby trunk and turned and gestured impatiently for help to get her dress unhooked from her corset. Lacey crossed her arms over her chest and squinted at her in confusion.

"What is your problem?" She slurred. Ariel grimaced in frustration and pointed at the window where the moons were disappearing before back at herself. Ariel bent her knees in frantic worry, as she bobbed up and down before Lacey. She gestured impatiently at the buttons on her back.

"Fine." Lacey undid the buttons. Her fingers fumbled a bit at the small pearls before Ariel pushed the bodice off. The sleeves whispered as they slid down to the floor. She reached her small hands around, undid the ribbons to her skirts and slid them down as well before she pushed her hoop off. She sank down to pull her stays off with a open mouthed cry of worry.

Lacey blinked in confusion as she stood and watched the young girl strip. Ariel stood abruptly and hopped madly away as she tried to pull her drawers down. Lacey cried out in consternation, "Ariel, the hell is going on with you?"

Just as the rays of the sun peeped over the horizon, Ariel splashed into the bathtub from their earlier scrubbing. The dirty cold water still in there. Lacey stepped back from the girl as water splashed over the sides as she exclaimed "Ariel!" in protest.

A familiar glow flashed from the pewter tub as weak sunlight filled the room. Finally undesrstanding through her haze of drunken tiredness, Lacey hurried to the door and threw the bolt just as the light faded away.

A little mermaid floated in a tub, a sheepish look on her face.

"Are you telling me you turn back into a mermaid at dawn?" Lacey sidestepped the garments strewn around the floor. "But-"

"All magic reverts to its true form in the light of day," Ariel answered miserably as she looked down at her scaled tail as it overlapped the tub's edges. "Everyone knows that."

The two lapsed into silence as the sun filled the room. Lacey's headache pounding behind her eyes as the Little Mermaid forlornly closed her eyes against the sun. Her golden bracelet glowed faintly against her wrist on the tub's edge.

Not everyone, Lacey thought darkly. Not everyone.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Alright, boys and girls, I hope you enjoyed meeting our newest character Duke Sebastian of Flounders. I don't have any clue where I got that name.

Not at all.

Our new friend Dylan on the other hand... is an original character. *Steps back from the hissing* BUT he has a purpose. Other than Lacey's newest paramour. I promise.

Please see the below link for inspiration behind the Ballroom, Dylan and the Duke's attire:  
post/109798591697/the-gate-chapter-eleven-inspirations

Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

A loud rapping on the door signaled the start of the day.

Lacey ignored it.

Until it was repeated more firmly as a voice from the hall called, "Princess Belle? Will you and Lady Ariel be taking lunch in your room or the parlor?"

Lacey rolled over to her side to glare unhappily at the door. Ariel stirred from her own bathtub stupor as she peered one eye open in response. Lacey let out a large yawn as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "We have a parlor?"

Ariel shrugged, mystified as she mumbled, "What's a parlor?"

"Why do I even bother-" Lacey groaned as she tumbled out of bed. She grabbed a dressing gown on the way to the door as she motioned for Ariel to stay silent.

As she opened the door a crack, she found herself face to face with an annoyed maid carrying a large tray. Two more maids behind her were carrying day dresses. At the sight of Lacey's pale face, they all pushed forward to enter. They were all clearly disgruntled by the bolted door that had kept them from doing their jobs.

"Lady Ariel is still sleeping," Lacey lied. She brushed her bed head matted hair out of her face. "The parlor will be fine."

The head maid blinked at her. She turned her head toward the two behind her before looking back to Lacey. "Your Royal Highness," she said as if speaking to a small child. "The parlor is attached to the bedroom."

Lacey moved her head backward to glance over at Ariel who raised her hands helplessly in response. "Well," Lacey turned back to the maids with a frosty smile. "Isn't there another entrance from the hall?"

"Yes…" the maid answered hesitatingly. "But-"

"I'll meet you in there," Lacey dictated, closing the door firmly in their faces. She slid the bolt home before making her way quickly to the door she assumed to be the parlor.

"Go back to sleep," she told Ariel. The teen nodded sleepily as she sank back down into the depths of the tub. Lacey quickly closed the bedroom door behind her as she entered the parlor. The maids were already entering the adjacent parlor. Before the first maid even placed the lunch tray down, Lacey reached for it. The familiar aroma of chicken caused her stomach to growl loudly which seemed to amuse the maids enough to forgive her for her initial abruptness. Lacey settled down at the parlor table to eat as the maids arranged themselves along the back wall. The food was just as tantalizing as the meal last night. Lacey had already devoured the fruits and half the chicken before one maid stepped forward shyly.

"Princess Belle," She held up a tan walking suit. "Perhaps it'd be best to get dressed?"

Lacey slowly put the chicken down with a sigh. She looked forlornly at the crust of bread she hadn't gotten to but nodded in agreement. The two younger maids made short work of the removal of her nightgown. After throwing on her slip, they began to expertly lace up her corset. She caught a glimpse of the head maid's face as she picked up the demolished tray and she swore it was smugger than necessary.

"Leave that," Lacey wheezed as someone tugged her corset tight. She glanced over her shoulder in reproof but the little maids ignored her. "Lady Ariel may get hungry when she wakes."

"But-"

Lacey shot her iciest glare, which was impressive considering she was half dressed and at half lung capacity. "Thank you but that'll be all."

The head maid stared back at her for a frosty moment before she nodded. She let herself out with a hard click of the door. Lacey assumed that was the closest to slamming the door a servant could do with royalty.

Through the large mirror across the room, Lacey noticed the younger maids giggling silently behind her. They stilled guilty when they realized she could see them. Lacey tossed them a wry grin as she shrugged her shoulders in response. The young one looked away with a deep blush, but the older one caught her eye for a minute longer with an answering mischievous grin on her face.

"Do you have names?" Lacey asked as she tried to distract herself from the painful tug of the corset around her ribs.

The young one giggled again and Lacey was forcibly reminded of Ariel. The older one stayed silent a moment before she answered quietly, "Priscilla, Your Royal Highness. And this giggle box over here is Charlotte."

Charlotte glanced up with a bright smile before she looked back down as she tried to stop giggling. Lacey let out a laugh of her own but it was cut short as Priscilla tightened the corset further.

"How do you like working for the Royal Family?" Priscilla walked around to gather the walking suit from its hanger. Charlotte came around to adjust the corset. Her dark hair peeked out from underneath her maid's cap and fell into her brown eyes.

"It's a pleasure," Priscilla answered robotically as she moved back towards the two. Lacey noticed her hair was perfectly in place, but her glasses were smudged from soot, and her fingers had ink smeared at the tips.

"Does the castle have a library?" Lacey asked casually. She noticed Charlotte look guiltily over at Priscilla. Priscilla frowned slightly and with a shake of her head prompted Charlotte to stay silent.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness. The King's collection is very grand," Priscilla held up a silken blouse for Lacey to slip her arms through.

"Does it have anything on the Land of Believers?" Lacey continued. Charlotte began on the tiny row of pearl buttons as Priscilla went back to gather the walking outfit's skirt.

"I wouldn't know, Your Royal Highness," Priscilla responded after a moment's pause. "Servants aren't allowed in His Majesty's Royal Library."

Lacey pulled a face before stepping into the puddle of fabric of the skirt. Priscilla went to pull it up as Charlotte moved to gather the jacket. "That's ridiculous," Lacey scoffed. "How are you-"

Both maids stilled as they glanced at each other worriedly. Lacey shook her head in annoyance before she exhaled noisily. "Well, I'll speak to Her Majesty about that. Having servants who can read seems like something they should be encouraging…."

Neither of them responded, but Charlotte gave her a small, pleased smile the next time she caught her eye, and Priscilla was gentle as she combed out Lacey's curls.

As Charlotte laced up her walking boots, Lacey managed to sneak two more bites of the cold chicken before another knock came to the door.

Grimsby pulled it open. Entering without hesitation, he bowed low to her as the maids moved to depart.

"Thank you, ladies," Lacey called out. Grimsby frowned in puzzlement at the unanticipated gratitude, but she saw both young women smile warmly back as they gently closed the door behind her.

"Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness," he greeted. "Are you ready for your audience with the Queen?"

"One second," Lacey took another quick bite of the chicken before she picked up the tray. "Wait here, I won't be a moment."

She fumbled for the door handle and barely managed to swing the bedroom door open without spilling the food. Ariel had gone back to sleep, her head half submerged underwater. Tiny bubbles floated to the surface of the bath water. Lacey closed the door firmly behind her so Grimsby didn't peek in and placed the tray where Ariel could reach it.

She grabbed her tiara from where Ariel had left it the night before and pinned it in her hair. She double-checked that the bedroom door was bolted before she left back through the parlor door to where Grimsby waited.

"See to it that no one enters in my absence," she commanded before she breezed past him to the door. "Lady Ariel is worn and weary and needs her rest. I do not want to hear of anyone in our quarters until I call for them."

She turned at the door, "Is that understood?"

"Of course, Your Royal Highness,' Grimsby agreed without hesitation. Apparently, he was used to royals being particular. "I will see to it. Now, if you'll follow me…"

He took her down the long hall. In the sunlight from the windows, Lacey could see the ornate detailing of the wall décor and the beautiful patterns of the rugs strewn across the stone floors. When they came to the staircase that led to the Grand Foyer, he walked past it and headed towards the other wing of the second story. She followed behind him. The narrow skirt of her walking suit did not allow her to take long strides and the heeled boots pinched her ankles. The walk with the Queen was going to be a chore.

They arrived at an open door where two guards stood imposingly outside of it. Grimsby walked past them, and Lacey followed him into what appeared to be the Queen's day room.

"Ah, there you are." The Queen sat in a pale blue chair with golden legs and arms curled into waves at the feet. She waved Lacey in and dismissed Grimsby with her thanks as he closed the door behind him.

The Queen wore a light grey walking suit, full skirts with a beautiful tailored jacket over a white lace blouse. Her dark hair had been piled artfully in a bun with her crown as her only piece of jewelry. She looked young and fresh. The late night's celebrations did not show at all on her classic features.

Lacey tried not to hate her for that. Charlotte had dabbed some rouge on her cheeks and lips, but she knew perfectly well the dark circles under her eyes weren't fooling anyone.

The Queen turned to Lacey and took her hands in her gloved ones. The Queen squeezed their joined hands gently over the small white table where flowers in a porcelain vase were quaintly set. "How are you enjoying your stay, my dear?"

Lacey smiled back, "Your Majesty has been very kind. Lady Ariel and I have wanted for nothing. I am in your debt for taking two shipwrecked souls in during such an eventful time."

"Nonsense," Queen Christiana laughed.

Lacey glanced over at the window. The sun poured into the pale blue chamber and illuminated the walls with their delicate wallpaper in a myriad of color. She could see the gardens stretching out towards the town. The green shrubbery reached upwards in hedges and waves. They were beautiful from a distance. Lacey didn't look forward to being up close to them though. She had never been a nature person.

"I must apologize," the Queen continued. "I was hoping to walk with you in our gardens today, but unfortunately a delicate matter of state has arisen and I need to see to it. I had asked my son to accompany you around the grounds, but he begs leave as he is rather tired of the gardens."

Lacey smiled in understanding. "I believe he may just be weary of female companionship. I take no offense to his wanting some time to himself."

The Queen nodded towards Lacey in grateful pardon. "You will forgive a mother her whims, but I did tell him that as a visiting princess you had a right to an audience with him. He proposed to take you down to the town, but I told him you would not be interested in seeing the town marketplace when you could relax in our private gardens."

"Your Majesty," Lacey said, struck by a rather cunning idea. "As you know, I washed up on shore not far from your town market." The Queen raised her hand to her chest in concern, startled by the frank addressing of such a traumatic memory. "I was confused, lost, and barely conscious when a young boy and his father found me on the beach. I would like very much to pay a visit to them to repay their kindness."

"My dear," the Queen leaned over and cupped Lacey's face in her hand. "I am so grateful for such a woman to come into our lives and to have you here… Well, it brings a great joy to my old heart."

The Queen stood and called out towards the closed door, "Guards."

The door swung open to admit a guard who strode in at attention. His eyes were fixed on the space between the Queen and herself. Lacey turned to look to where his gaze fell before she stopped herself. She settled her face in a calm, regal repose and tried not to rejoice at her own cleverness.

"Your Majesty."

"Please bring Prince Eric at once," she turned to wink at Lacey. "He has a promise to keep."

* * *

Early afternoon found Lacey in an open carriage. A reticent Prince held the reins to the impressive black horses which pulled the royal carriage straight past the gardens and out of the castle's main gate.

Lacey sat up a bit in interest as she looked backward to catch a glimpse of the iron-wrought gate. It was the first of its kind she had seen since the gate between worlds. She was curious to see if it bore any resemblance, but it was soon hidden by white columns as they headed out towards the town.

Settling back in her seat, Lacey adjusted her tan skirt. The black lace panel in the front gleamed in the sunlight. She adjusted her matching jacket. The hot tweed and the stiff stomach panel were already making her uncomfortable despite the pleasant breeze from their quick pace.

"Am I going too fast?" Eric broke the silence. Lacey noticed he didn't slow down despite his apparent concern for her.

"Can it go faster?" She leaned back into the padded seat. He shot a surprised look over at her. When their eyes met, she offered him a devilish grin and jerked her head at the horses.

He grinned back as he accepted the dare. He whipped the reins and yelled a command to the horses who took up the challenge with eagerness. They strained at their bits as they rushed over the uneven surface of the dirt road.

Lacey's loose hair whipped around her face, but she found herself laughing in carefree delight at the adrenaline rush. She leaned forward as the carriage hit dips in the road and whooped with un-ladylike joy as Eric took a sharp corner which almost spilled them both out the open sides. They finally slowed as they neared the town, both breathless with laughter.

"I have to get me one of these," she laughed as she patted the open cart in affection. Eric nodded to a passing farm cart heading out of town. The children in the carriage leaned over the wooden sides and waved in glee at the crown prince.

"It's not the carriage or the driver," Eric said, more to himself than to her. "It's the horses."

She smiled at the way he carefully led the horses into a trot to ease their strained muscles after the whirlwind. "So, Prince Eric," she turned to face him more squarely in the open seat. He tensed a bit, and she patted him reassuringly on his broad shoulder. "Oh relax, I'm not here for your hand in marriage."

He glanced over at that. Confusion and uncertainty were easily readable upon his face. He would make a terrible poker player.

"Princess Belle," his hand went to rub the back of his neck.

"No, it's fine," She shook her head and watched a horse graze in the field nearby. "I know your mother is pushing me at you. I just wanted to get some time with you out of the castle to let you know that I do not share her intentions."

"I understand." His eyes fixed on the road ahead. "I appreciate your candor."

"Please don't be too heartbroken," she teased as she lifted her hand to her heart in fake distress. He looked abashed for a moment before he glanced over and realized she was joking.

He laughed as he finally relaxed. It was a warm, sharp bark complete with a head toss. A young man's laughter, free of heartbreak or sorrow.

"You remind me of the Princess Emma," Eric shared. "The Fourth Kingdom has some very independent princesses. I wonder at the quality of your princes."

"Terrified mostly," Lacey quipped which earned her another laugh from the young prince. "I do know Emma." She unwittingly touched her tiara. "She's a strong woman."

"She takes after her mother." Eric waved a hand in greeting to a walking woman who stopped and waved enthusiastically in return.

"They all love you here," Lacey marveled. She watched as children came tumbling down a field behind them to hurry after the carriage.

"I've served with most of the men in the village out at sea." Eric shrugged. "I spend time down here when I can, with the people. Listen to them, hear what they have to say. I find it a better system than listening to a bunch of old men tell me what the people are saying."

She sat back to watch as another man stopped his work in the field to wave at them as they approached the town's more busy streets. The young prince next to her continued to wave, smile, and greet his people like the lost son returned. He seemed more comfortable here with the people than he did at the castle.

"So, why not pull an Emma and run off into the sunset?" Lacey proposed. She watched his face closely as he took a moment to formulate his response.

He shook his head ruefully. "I don't want to leave my people without a king. My father has been raising me to rule since I was old enough to understand the game of chess."

"You have chess here?" Lacey asked in excitement. He gave her an odd look in return.

"All the kingdoms have chess, Belle," he replied.

"Well, just checking," she mumbled. She went back to picking at the elegant folds of her bodice.

"Your Royal Highness!" someone called, and both Eric and Lacey looked over to an older man. He waved happily at them. A young boy perched on his shoulders.

"Good to see you, Gil!" Eric waved back. "I have business at the market today, but I'll stop by next week."

"You'll be married by next week!" Gil called back with a bawdy gesture at Lacey before he turned away laughing.

Eric colored a bit and ducked his head down into his shoulders as they entered the busy area of the town. There were plenty more horses and carriages crowding the road. Lacey leaned out to look her fill. Her previous ride from town had been in a closed carriage, and she barely remembered anything other than the ball of nerves in her chest.

It was a quaint town. Most buildings had two or three stories. Each was brightly colored with unique engravings over the doors. Here and there she saw a flock of ravens, a dolphin leaping underneath a sun and even a mermaid. There were no house numbers. "What are the engravings?" Lacey finally asked as they passed by a house with a donkey and a rabbit cavorting.

"That," He explained, pointing back at the donkey and the rabbit. "Is the Ass and the Hart on Rue Mer. A young widow lives there with her… sister."

Lacey was delighted with that, twisting in her seat to see if she could get a better look at the house. "And that one?" She asked as they passed by a house that boasted a snake with its tongue in its mouth.

"The Serpent's Circle," Eric replied without looking. "The alchemist lives there."

Lacey remained fascinated the entire time. People opened windows and waved down at them as they passed. A few young women called out to Eric in familiar voices, and Lacey enjoyed watching him squirm each time a pretty girl pouted up at him.

"Fans?" she teased, just to watch the blush creep down his neck.

"The market is just up ahead." He coughed as he pointed at an inn where a stable was open. Horses were being brought in and out from the dark barn. "We'll leave our horses at the Fisherman's Rest."

He helped her down from the carriage when they arrived. Eric spoke a few words to the stable boy and pressed a gold coin in his hand. She noticed Eric's calloused fingers and short fingernails. He reminded her of the firemen that drank at an old neighborhood bar of hers, all business and honor but with burns and bruises. They lived fast and hard and enjoyed every second of it.

He was young too. She was reminded every time he blushed or shrugged. In the her world, he would be a college kid, fresh to campus with his daddy's money and buckets of charm. No wonder Ariel found him irresistible.

Eric came and joined her. "Did you want to go see the carpenter now?" he asked.

With a quiet noise of disinterest, she looked up at him before she realized he had asked her a question. "Sorry, I was thinking. What did you say?"

"Did you want to go see your carpenter now or go to market first?" he repeated.

"The market," she replied easily. She had actually no real intention of going to see Gepetto. She had simply wanted a reasonable excuse to go to the town with the prince to avoid spending the day with his mother or locked in a room with a mermaid. "We'll have plenty of time to stop by on our way out of town."

He escorted her down the street. More and more people stopped to bow or curtsey. All pressed for a closer look at Lacey.

"They'll have us married off by the time we reach market," Eric whispered down at her with laughter in his voice as he waved to another family on the other side of the road.

"Is it my crown?" she teased back as she sidestepped a horse's droppings in the street. "Because I'm not that kind of girl."

She found that she enjoyed needling the young prince. It was an unsuspected pleasure. "So, tell me more about your realm," she found herself saying, curious despite herself.

"Well, since most of the kingdom lies on the coast, our family and the other three major royal families of the Seventh Realm all have castles on the sea. Our family is more interested in trade with the other kingdoms. That's how I know Princess Emma. Her family has a summer castle on the sea, and we met as children."

Lacey stopped to buy a fish cake from a vendor when the heavy aromas reminded her she hadn't eaten since lunch. Eric paid despite the vendor's protests that no money was necessary for the princess. "And the other families? What do they specialize in?" she asked him.

"There are four in total. The kingdom to the west specialize in fishing. They provide most of the fish to the interior of the kingdom as well as to the Sixth Kingdom's palaces, which enjoy year-long fish. The other northern families are ship builders. They have a closer supply to lumber in the north. Most of the ships in all the realms come from there."

"And why does the Crown Prince Eric go to sea?" she asked. When Eric didn't respond right away, they stopped briefly at a ribbon vendor's cart. Lacey refused his offer of yellow ribbon for her hair but finally gave in when he tried to follow them away from the booth. Eric slipped him a silver coin. He shook his head when the merchant tried to return it and led Lacey away.

"I suppose," he continued as they drifted away. "I felt like I couldn't ask these men to put their lives on the line without understanding how their lives worked. I traveled for years with different crews to different realms, learning the cultures that make up our world, and building relationships to improve our trade."

Lacey stopped short to stare up at him. "You'll make a wonderful king, Eric. Even I can see that. So, why are you running from it?"

Eric looked over his shoulder at the throng of people in the marketplace. He watched as a young woman tried to quiet her squalling child. Lacey wrinkled her face at the noise. He glanced over at her as she squeezed her face in pain as the child continued to wail.

"You aren't like most princesses, Belle." He folded his arms and looked down his long nose at her.

"I get that a lot," she said grimly. Lacey flipped her hair back over her shoulders and continued on. "But you didn't answer my question."

They had reached the end of the first row of stalls. They stood and looked over the busy dock. Ships were raising their sails as they prepared to launch into the golden afternoon, while others loaded. People yelled directions at each other, their voice mixed neatly with the calls of the seagulls overhead.

He avoided the question with one of his own. "Well, why don't you want to be queen?"

"Is that a crack at my age?" Lacey replied deftly in return.

"No! I was just-"

She shook her head, not interested in watching him squirm good-naturedly. "I just managed to survive something that should have killed me," she shared. Lacey found a kernel of truth in her lie, which bothered her. "I'm not interested in finding someone right now. I'm too busy trying to figure out what my life means to me. What I'm going to do with my life, and if that means just trying to survive one day after the other… that's what it means."

He kept his gaze straight out to the water beyond the dock, the sun starting its slow descent down the eastern sky.

"My mother and father were a love match," he said quietly. "Most are. Were your parents?"

Lacey thought of her parents but the memory stung. She shut it back away in the dark part of her mind. "I suppose," she answered gruffly. She plucked at the heavy cuffs that were suddenly too tight.

"Well, I don't just want to marry some girl because of her birth or what her kingdom can do for mine. I've been all over the world and I've yet to meet _her_. And now with my father's health starting to fail and his memory lapses, Mother wants him to hand the crown down. And if I take the throne unwed, I may never meet her."

Lacey turned to look at the young prince. The sun shone off his black hair with his strong chin and highbrow. Ariel's unquestioning love seemed to fit his idealistic nature and Lacey found herself speaking before she realized the words were out of her mouth.

"You didn't meet the Lady Ariel last night, did you, Eric?" He thought for a moment before he shook his head. "She was one of my party from the Fourth Realm and who I thought was lost to me forever in the shipwreck. "

His eyes flickered in concern as she continued, "But she was washed up on shore at your cove the day I arrived. It was a miracle. The sea returned her to me but now… Now, I think perhaps the sea wasn't delivering her to me."

He attempted a confused smile, one corner of his lip rising slightly before falling back down in disappointment. "Belle, I-"

"I'm not matchmaking," she lied as she smoothed her hair down. She turned back to the market place, curious to see the other side of the wares and stalls before they began to close, and they headed back to the castle for the night. "Besides, I call first dance tonight."

He bowed to hide his laughter. "You have it, Your Royal Highness."

"Excellent. Is that pie over there?" she said suddenly before she hurried towards the enticing smell, Eric's laughter at her back.

The sun sank deeper into the sky towards the ocean's horizon.

"We should be heading back," Lacey noted with a sigh.

"Especially if we want to stop by and see your rescuers," Eric agreed. "Didn't you say they lived off the beach? I know there's an old carpenter on the dunes, but he doesn't have a son."

"No," she shook her head. "Pinocchio is the one who found me. but I'm not sure if he's technically his son. But there's no need to see them. We should probably head back."

"Nonsense," Eric protested. He headed towards the dunes to the west of the market. "It'll just take a moment, and I'm curious. I like to think I know most of the people in this town. "

She rolled her eyes in resignation and followed after him. She waved to a few people who were staring openly at her tiara.

After a few blocks, they arrived on the sandy dunes. Gepetto's cottage was still dark in the fading daylight. A frenzy of clocks signaling the hour greeted them as the sun sank behind them. Eric's face lit up in open curiosity. Lacey had to resist sighing as she thought of the mermaid back in her chambers and her unbridled passion for all new things.

"He makes clocks," she said under her breath as she raised her hand to knock. Eric turned to glance behind them as someone yelled greetings to them. Lacey went to turn as well when she noticed a familiar white light glow from underneath the door. She stared at it transfixed, hand poised to knock.

"Did you forget how to knock?" Eric laughed. He reached over and rapped the door with his knuckles. The sound echoed in the small hut as the clock noise died down, and Eric repeated his knock. "Hello! Anyone home?"

The door swung abruptly open. Both adults looked down at the little boy who opened the door, frown on his face.

"I'm not supposed to open the door when Papa is out," Pinocchio said matter-of-factly, arms crossed over his bony chest. Ah, so he was his son…

"You're doing a great job," Lacey muttered at him, which earned her a stunned look from Eric and a dirty one from Pinocchio. "Will your father be back soon?"

"I guess," Pinocchio said sullenly, kicking at the dirt floor. "He just leaves me alone here all day to sell things at the market."

"Well," Eric scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "You must be the young man who saved Princess Belle from the sea?"

Pinocchio glanced up at her, a sly smirk sliding across his face. She gave him a sharp warning look but he ignored her.

"Actually," he started. "She-"

"Your Royal Highnesses!"

They turned to find Gepetto had arrived. He was attempting to bow with a large sack on his back, almost the same size as he was. Eric hurried forward to relieve him of the bag before he carried it into the hut, while Lacey helped Gepetto straighten.

"What did I tell you about bowing," she admonished. She noticed he looked much more tired than he had the other night. "Are you getting sleep, Gepetto?" She asked as she helped him into the house past a now sulky Pinocchio. She looked around for Jiminy, but she didn't see the man or cricket anywhere.

"Plenty," he answered. He reached out for Pinocchio who sidestepped his father's hand and stayed stubbornly out of reach. "I've just had a long day at the market..."

Eric put the bag down and clasped a hand on the shoulder of the green vested Pinocchio. The boy glanced up at him, startled. "With this fine young man here at home? He's old enough to start selling wares down at the wharf, sir. You should bring him down tomorrow; show him how it's done."

Gepetto shook his head wearily. Lacey noticed Pinocchio had looked eager for a moment but was now openly scowling again.

"He should be going to school," Gepetto insisted as he tried to stand. "Not down at the wharfs."

"Perhaps I can help," Eric said, brightening. "For your services to the Princess Belle, I would be happy to help make sure he could attend the local school. Pay for his books and anything he may need, get a proper education and perhaps a job at the castle-"

"I don't want to go to school!" Pinocchio interrupted with a slam of his foot. "I want to go to sea with the boats!"

Gepetto blinked sadly at his son. He raised a trembling hand to his face in weariness to block the pain from the royals' eyes. Lacey looked out the window at the moons rising before she turned to Eric.

"We should be going. I just wanted to stop in and thank you again… Is Jiminy at home? I wanted to thank him as well…"

Gepetto shot a worried look towards Eric who in return was gazing at Lacey in confusion. She ignored both of them as she smiled politely at Gepetto.

"You are most welcome, your Royal Highness," Gepetto stalled. "And I'm afraid Jiminy is out. He's meeting with a friend… I don't expect him back before the end of the week." Lacey nodded. She had assumed the flash of light from earlier had been Jiminy turning back into his cricket form, just as a flash of light had accompanied Ariel's transformation. But if Jiminy wasn't at home…

She was distracted by her thoughts when Gepetto took her hand and raised it to his lips in a courtier's kiss. Pinocchio turned his back on them all, arms crossed in irritation. "You'll excuse my boy, Your Royal Highness," he said to Eric who shook his head.

"I was that age once," Eric said with a warm smile, but he shot a concerned look at the surly boy as they left. Lacey frowned in sheer irritation at the little brat as the door snapped close behind them. The glowing light still bothered her, and she wondered idly where Jiminy had disappeared.

"Didn't realize Gepetto had a son," Eric said, a frown on his face. "His wife passed almost fifteen years ago in childbirth. He must have adopted the boy from one of the girls on the docks."

"Yeah," Lacey said absently. She turned back to look at the cottage as they headed towards the inn. "I suppose you're right."

She didn't say much on the ride to the castle. Her thoughts were on the old man and the young boy and the glowing light of enchantment as the sun set.

* * *

Author's Note

Big news- ladies and gents- The Gate has a BETA.

And not just any Beta- a Fairy Godmother Beta. I would like to take this moment to enthuse my undying gratitude for the fabulous Ramloth.

I sent her this chapter last night and she sent it back to me this morning. Just stellar. She- unlike myself- paid attention in English Class and she really made this chapter top notch.

Curious about the fashion and the location of Eric's kingdom? Here are some inspiration/ research photos:  
post/109799987622/the-gate-inspirations-chapter-twelve

In other news, as many of you know- I am over on Tumblr as theplasticview. Last Sunday, I had a prompt-a-thon and a few lovely Anons prompted Gate ficlets which I have posted over here as Beyond The Gate. So, if any of you are interested in checking those out, they are available on Ao3.

If you are on tumblr, come find me and follow for the next prompt-a-thon. I loved The Gate prompts because it let me delve into other characters beside Lacey and show you a bit more of the world.

I hope you all enjoyed getting to see Lacey and Eric bond a bit as well as get to see our favorite surly boy and his adorable papa. Ariel and a certain someone who shall remain... nameless... will return next chapter.

If you are loving The Gate, please let me know! This is such a labor of love for me and every comment, kudo, Tumblr message really makes my day and inspires me to come back here to continue crafting this story. I love sharing it with all of you and I love hearing your thoughts on it- this has been a great community and as Prissygirl and the completebookworm could tell you after this chapter- I will probably put you in here as a token of affection.


	13. Chapter 13

When Lacey finally returned to her room, she opened the door to a wave of feminine laughter. Lacey froze in the doorway as a group of women clustered around the vanity all turned towards the door. Priscilla and Charlotte had returned as well as the dour head maid. A few faces from the previous evening were also bustling around the room. Ariel was sitting at the vanity, half hidden among them. She glanced into the mirror up to beam at Lacey in a silent greeting.

"Welcome back, Princess Belle!" Charlotte cried, turning back to her task at hand. "We were just finishing up Lady Ariel's hair. Doesn't it look exquisite?"

It truly was. An ornate braided design swept all of Ariel's riotous vibrant hair into a coiled bun high on the crown of her head. Lacey caught the teen carefully monitoring her reaction in the mirror and she gave her a small private smile of approval. Glancing away, her gaze fell onto two dresses lying out on the bed.

Noting the pink velvet brocade material of one gown with apprehension, Lacey craned her neck to get a closer look at the material pooling on the bedding. "Which one is mine?" Lacey edged.

"The black and white one if it pleases you, Your Royal Highness." Before she could take a closer look, Priscilla had her firmly in hand, leading her across the room to dress.

Without having to be told, Lacey gratefully peeled off the sticky wool jacket of her walking outfit. The heady scents of the docks still clung to it. Priscilla took it from her while reaching up to unfasten the buttons of the blouse. Lacey gratefully rubbed her neck, finally free from the chafing material.

Charlotte bent over Ariel with a pink flower in her hand and a pin in her mouth. Pinning the flower in gently at Ariel's temple, the young girl's hand rose to touch it in reverence.

The older maid from the morning moved it away before warning with a pointed finger, "Don't touch it, precious. You'll wilt it before the night's over like that."

She turned her attention to Lacey, now just in her corset and stays. A fresh breeze from the open window chilled the sweat of the day on her skin. "Should probably give you a bath," the woman harrumphed. "But you're late getting back from the town so we'll just have to spritz you with some bath oils. Come on over to the chair so we can do something with your hair."

As the attention shifted to the Princess, Ariel shifted from the vanity to allow Lacey to sit. She knelt patiently at Lacey's feet. Lacey raised an eyebrow at her. Ariel shot her a disgruntled look causing Lacey to laugh.

"Fine." Lacey did her best to sit as still as possible as they pulled her tiara out and began to comb the knots out, ratty from the wind. "Prince Eric and I went into town. He showed me the market and told me all about his kingdom." Ariel nodded eagerly before she gestured for her to continue. Lacey thought for a moment as she considered what to say next.

"He's very kind, smart, and eager to lead but also rather humble. He's almost unassuming. Still a young man in so many ways, but I rather think he'll grow to be a great one. Something about the way he is with his people…"

The maids were silent as they continued to work, but Lacey caught Priscilla's smile in the mirror. She was obviously pleased the Princess Belle liked the Prince, but she noticed the head maid frowning slightly in the reflection of the mirror.

"I'll be dancing the first dance with him tonight," Lacey confided. At her words, the older woman pulled her hair tight to twist it into curlers. Lacey winced, throwing a dirty look in the mirror but the head maid ignored her. When she glanced back at Ariel, the girl's eyes were dejected as she tilted her head up at Lacey in confusion.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Lacey grumbled.

'But ….When I twist my ankle while dancing," Lacey raised her eyes back to the mirror in challenge. "He'll return me back to my companion, Lady Ariel, who doubtless will be happy to dance the remainder of the set with the Prince."

Ariel clutched at her hands again and squeezed in excitement. Caught up in her own fantasy, Ariel leapt to her feet with a clap of her hands. As the maids started to curl Lacey's hair, Ariel began to sway back and forth. Her arms rose to embrace a ghostly partner, and she waltzed around the room much to the amusement of the maids.

Lacey continued watching the older woman's face. She had gone from grim and quiet to the occasional fond looks toward Ariel under her lashes.

"I have no designs on your prince," Lacey murmured as she closed her eyes against the powder Charlotte applied to her cheeks. The head maid made no response in return as she continued to twist her hair in ribbons. But when Charlotte announced she was finished, Lacey opened her eyes to find the head maid's reflection looking back at her with the hints of a smile on her face.

By the time Lacey and Ariel were finally deemed presentable by their team, the twin moons of Fae were already high overhead. As Lacey thanked the maids for their efforts, she caught Priscilla and Charlotte admiring the room's book shelves. Lacey pulled the head maid aside to request the two young women clean the room and draw a warm bath shortly before dawn.

If the woman thought the request strange, especially considering the room was already sparkling clean, she did not say anything. She ordered Priscilla and Charlotte to stay while the rest departed. Lacey and Ariel left the two young women to their "cleaning," both already migrating towards the book shelf in barely suppressed excitement.

Ariel was still slowly moving to an imaginary waltz. She smiled bashfully when she noticed Lacey watching and stilled. The unlikely pair made their way to the stairs by following the sound of the music. The second evening of the festivities had been underway for hours now.

Due to their late arrivals, the Princess Belle and Lady Ariel were swiftly announced. Both made their way up the stairs to the ballroom with little fuss. Ariel even managed the stairs without glancing down at her feet.

Still, Ariel was a nervous ball of energy. She stood on her tiptoes to better survey the hall for Prince Eric. Lacey towed her through the crowd, trying to find a suitable area out of the crush. A few of Ariel's admirers from the night before came up to request a dance. Lacey begged their pardon to keep her companion to herself for a bit longer and sent them on their way grumbling in disappointment.

While Ariel was searching for her Prince, Lacey was also looking around the ballroom for a certain man. She glanced around for Dylan's tall frame or perhaps the Duke's stately one when a familiar voice behind her made her turn in greeting.

"You look lovely, Belle," Prince Eric said warmly. He took her hands to raise her arms up so he could properly admire her dress.

Lacey glanced down as he did. It was pure white silk with black strokes. The pattern rather reminded Lacey of the wrought iron garden gates from her childhood house. The design curled on the bodice and then swirled down over the hourglass shape. This bodice was higher than her previous evening's gown. It was more delicate and the curls of the design framed her breasts perfectly. The small puffed tulle sleeves of white and black framed her neck before her white opera gloves descended to her fingertips in a tasteful show of modesty.

The gown was complete with a bustle that popped her rear out artfully and then cascaded down into a train. She held the train on a string tied around her wrist to prevent the crowd from trampling the beautiful design and rip the delicate silk. The dress was mercifully light, but it was still hot in the ballroom. Thankfully, the back doors had been opened due to the increasing crowd. The sea breeze tickled the bare back of her neck and stirred the feathers pinned in her hair.

"Apologies for our tardiness," Lacey greeted as she took in the Prince's more formal attire this evening. The prince wore navy blue breeches and a sharply cut waistcoat. The white linen underneath opened at the throat and showed off his strong collarbone and neck muscles. "I was not deemed fit to enter the ball until they got all the knots out of my hair from our ride today."

Eric smiled mischievously but before he could answer, the burst of color that was Ariel caught his eye.

Words seemed to fail the young man. With Ariel's usual muteness, both of them were left staring in stunned silence at the other. Lacey was quite forgotten.

Finally, Eric seemed to remember himself. Without bothering to look back at Lacey, he asked, "Belle, will you do the honor of introducing me to your companion?"

Trying to hide her exasperated amusement at the two of them, Lacey nodded regally. She released Eric's hands to turn and take Ariel's to pull her forward.

The girl was uncommonly still. Her large green eyes glistened in the candlelight as she gazed up at the much taller prince. She glanced down, overcome with some emotion, blushing brightly as her hands curled into white knuckled fists in her skirts.

"Prince Eric, this is the Lady Ariel."

While Lacey had been unsure of the wisdom of having Ariel wear pink with her hair, the pale color suited her. The rose colored bodice gathered over her already ample cleavage, and the bodice narrowed to a sharp v over her flat stomach.

It did have large mutton chop sleeves high up on the shoulders unlike her previous evening's dress. But it was tied neatly with ribbons to the fanned golden collar that rose up to frame her face and hair. Ariel practically glowed in the candlelight.

Eric's gaze continued to trace her delicate features. He lingered on her quivering eyelashes for a second and then he turned to Lacey as he fought to find his voice.

Lacey managed to avoid shaking her head at the besotted expression upon his face and continued the introductions with, "Lady Ariel, this is His Royal Highness, Prince Eric."

Ariel sank into a curtsey. Her eyes still locked on the floor. A slight trembling in her shoulders prompted Eric to help her up from her curtsey. Her eyes flew to his in nervous anticipation at his touch, but then without a moment's pause, the two smiled foolishly at each other.

"Honored to make your acquaintance, Lady Ariel," Eric murmured as Ariel colored at the use of her name. When she did not respond, Eric glanced at Lacey with barely suppressed nervousness.

Growing tired of watching the two consume each other with their eyes, Lacey faked a small yawn. "I am afraid our day trip has worn me out, Your Royal Highness," Lacey lied easily. "If it pleases you, perhaps you might dance with my companion while I go outside for some fresh air?"

Eric shook himself from the waking dream before him. He smiled sheepishly, "But I promised you a dance…"

Lacey shook her head; "I'll count it fulfilled if you spend it with Lady Ariel."

Neither moved from the spot as she left them, Ariel's small frame dwarfed by his taller one as dancers swirled around them. A few scheming noblewomen cursed bitterly as Lacey brushed past them. Half the ballroom was already talking about the red headed beauty that had captured the Prince's attention.

Lacey smiled to herself as she skimmed the wall. She headed towards the balcony where she had instructed Dylan to meet her when they parted last night.

"Artfully done," a smooth voice congratulated her from the doorway. She smiled as a figure stepped out into the light, revealing the Duke. Tonight, he wore a shadowy gray blazer and dark pants. He held a glass of champagne to her in celebration.

"That was almost embarrassingly easy," Lacey confessed. Eric was leading Ariel on to the dance floor. People stood aside to look as the handsome pair started a slow waltz despite the livelier music. They ignored the other dancers who began to stop to watch the beautiful couple.

"Could be true love," the Duke remarked.

"The course of which never did run smooth," Lacey quipped back.

"A cynic?" He laughed. "How unexpected of a Princess such as yourself."

"Really?" She drawled. "And why would you say that?"

"Rescued by a lowly carpenter from the sea's grip? Taken to the castle of a Prince who just happened to be looking for a wife before heroically plucking your own companion from the sea? My dear," he twinkled down at her, winking before taking another drink. "You are the very epitome of a Princess in Peril, just awaiting a prince to sweep her off her feet. A cynical view on love does not usually come in such a romantic package."

As the orchestra realized what was happening on the floor, they switched to a slow waltz. A few other couples joined in but most watched as the Prince tucked Ariel's vibrant head to his chest in wonder.

"Duke," Lacey sighed. "You'll have to hold my secret. But you see, I am far from being a model princess. I don't believe in true love. I simply believe in attraction and the overall power of a person's own self-interest. And I don't mind sharing that with you because I can tell you are a similar soul. Or you wouldn't be still standing here, distracting me from my rendezvous."

The Duke's lip twitched in amusement. "And if I am such a soul, why not curse me as the scoundrel in this piece? Every good story needs a good villain, Princess."

She shook her head, the feathers fluttering about her crown. "Perhaps this isn't that good of a story, Duke Sebastian."

"Perhaps," he replied. "But I don't believe that. Do you?"

She ignored his last question as another nobleman joined their group. Duke Sebastian greeted him and the two began to discuss something about the maritime trade. Growing bored, Lacey nodded in farewell before she headed towards the back door.

Noticing a woman standing before the open door, handkerchief in hand as she watched the dance end, Lacey turned for one last look at her success. Eric was bowing to Ariel as she sank down in a graceful curtsey. There was no shaking or clumsiness evident in her now.

Lacey stepped over the threshold into the fresh air. A few other couples were giggling on benches but most were more subdued than the late night lovers she had been a part of last night. Most were simply enjoying a break from the overheated ballroom. Walking to the balcony edge, she glanced down into the gardens below. Another waltz started in the distance.

Lacey stood there still as a statue as she gazed out into the night. Her white silk dress glowed in the darkness, the puddle of the trail perfectly laid out behind her in a fan. She closed her eyes against the two moons in the sky and lifted her chin to let the breeze off the sea play across her face.

For a moment, she felt she could almost be at home. The music and the giggling lovers faded out as she listened to her own breath.

The foreignness of this place was a constant reminder of her powerlessness. That she was very much alone in a world she did not understand. And alone. Utterly alone in a world of mermaids and Imps, men-crickets and princes…

Would it be so different if she had Emma beside her? Or someone who might look at her the way Eric had gazed down at Ariel without even knowing her name?

Could that even be real?

Magic was real. She had accepted that.

But true love…

She found herself recalling the memory of Ariel on the sea rock, crying in pain as her fins split into legs and her voice was ripped from her. All for the love of a stranger.

And she had tricked that poor mermaid into doing that to get a bag of ink. Because…

Because she had never really believed that the eligible prince would fall for the girl in just three nights. She had manipulated an idealistic teen girl and hadn't thought twice.

Cynic, she reprimanded herself as she pressed her palms harder into the balustrade. More like a manipulating pawn, ignorant of the end game but carrying out the master plan without question.

She snorted in rebuff at her maudlin thoughts. She looked about again, wondering if Dylan would appear. She was eager to take her mind off the confusion and twinges of guilt building up in her stomach.

That's when Lacey realized the silence had spread. The breeze was no longer blowing, and the birds of the gardens and beach had fallen silent as well as the partygoers. She opened her eyes. The stars were shining still and the palace lights still blazed behind her.

She felt someone's eyes rake across her exposed neck. Her skirt rasped against the rough stone as she spun, and then she saw him.

"Hello dearie."

The Imp stood before her as if he had been waiting for her the whole time. His black boots reached up to his thighs where black breeches of scales disappeared underneath a green and red leather evening jacket. A golden cravat covered his breast and brought a certain gleam to his usual dark face. Or perhaps she had never seen him outside of the Dark Castle's meager lighting since her arrival.

Past him, the dancers were frozen in time. Laughter and merriment etched across still faces. A girl in mid swing had her dress raised about her knees, the fabric floated suspended in air.

She glanced to her right at the nearest couple. His hand buried in his lover's hair, and her face pressed to his neck in an intimate snapshot of young love. Lacey snorted.

"Took you long enough," Lacey commented. He bowed in response, his hand extended out towards her in a courtier pose. "I got you your precious ink before the first night had even started."

"But you made a deal, dearie," he cackled as he straightened with a flourish. "And as a representative of mine-"

"I have to honor my promises?" Lacey chuckled darkly before she shrugged. "Fine, I have one more night with the little mermaid before she goes off and lives happily ever after."

"Oh! Careful, dearie" He squeaked, leaning in closer to her. "That tone sounds awfully like jealously…"

"Don't be silly," Lacey covered smoothly. She let a wry amusement tug her lip upwards. "I helped the happy couple find each other. I assume I'll be allowed to leave my room to attend the wedding?"

The Imp had made himself comfortable by leaning against the castle walls. She plucked her skirt up to settle neatly on a nearby stone bench, unoccupied due to its proximity to the window and the light.

"The magic will wear off on the dawn of the third evening," he shared, picking at his claws. "It's not forever, you know. And then she'll return to the sea."

"Or she'll become a Princess if he proclaims his love," she countered, "which after tonight seems possible."

"Oh?"

She ignored his sarcasm. She adjusted her gown so it draped enticingly over her legs, her ankle peeking out for when Dylan joined her. The Imp watched her grooming with unconcealed disdain.

"What are you doing?" He furrowed his brow.

"Waiting for someone." She ignored his dubious reaction. "So, if you would be so kind as to unfreeze time, and let us non-magical folk get back to our lives?"

"Careful, dearie," he warned. He pushed away from the wall in a quick burst of muscle. Lacey tensed despite herself. Her current surroundings gave her courage but her apprehension of him had not entirely faded. "It would be best not to confuse stupidity for bravery."

She opened her mouth to respond scathingly when she was overcome with a coughing fit. The music and the breeze crashed back in on her as time restarted around her. She turned angrily from where he had been standing and tried not to fume when she realized he had vanished.

Dylan's lateness began to irritate her as well, and after what felt like an eternity, she rose to go back into the ballroom to seek the Duke's company. Just as she neared the doors, she saw Dylan exit the ballroom, looking around for her in the darkness.

He was wearing the same outfit as the night before.

When his eyes fell on her, he came over swiftly. His powerful body rippled the air with his smooth, sure glide. She felt herself heat despite herself and went to meet him. As they reached each other, he lowered his head to kiss her.

His lips were soft and strong, smooth and wet beneath her rouged ones. He teased her bottom lip with his sharp teeth. When he flicked his tongue to trace her teeth, she opened her mouth to him. She felt him slowly move them away from the window, shielding her from anyone looking out into the night.

"Belle," he broke the kiss and gazed down at her. He traced his thumb along her cheek down to her jaw. Illuminated by the candlelight, his hair seemed to glow with an angelic purity, and she forgot her earlier disdain at his outfit as she tugged him towards the stairs to the garden.

But he didn't budge. Lacey turned to look at him in confused annoyance. He traced the back of her hand with his other thumb, rubbing in circles that made her feel warm and pliable in his grip. She let him pull her back to him.

For a moment, it was pleasant in his arms. He was solid and warm and smelled like the sea underneath the more masculine smells of pine and wood. However, after a few moments, she started to overheat.

She twisted her way out his embrace, readjusting her bodice and sleeve caps before turning back to the garden. "Shall we?"

He smiled down at her as she looked up at him from her lashes. She privately cursed that her bodice tonight was more fitted for her waist than her cleavage.

"Belle," he pulled her hands clasped in his up to his chest. "Marry me. Be my wife."

Lacey licked her lips as she issued a tight smile. It did not reach her eyes. She felt a burning heat where he was holding her gloved hands. She was horribly aware how much larger he was than her and how it would look to her hosts if a Princess was caught with a merchant's son.

She wondered idly why she couldn't remember what he had said his father had been trading when he died at sea. "Dylan, let's just enjoy this evening. We can go back down to our nook in the garden, and then I want you to meet Ariel-"

He was still looking down at her as he waited for her to finish. Lacey wet her lips, glancing back inside to see if anyone was nearby but everyone's attention seemed to be on something else. A quiet romantic string piece was playing now, and she thought of an idea.

"Dance with me," she said, pulling her hands free. "Please?"

He watched her, a slight concern evident in his blue eyes before he nodded gravely. He offered her his arm and brought her inside. She glanced about for the Duke, hoping he would step in and distract Dylan so she had a chance to think. But the Duke was nowhere in sight, and Dylan's arms went about her, raising her arm as he started to move to the music.

He was as graceful on the dance floor as he was learning her body. She kept her eyes on the swirling ballroom, the gilded ceiling spinning over her as the music picked up its tempo. She thought she saw Ariel dancing nearby, a whir of pinkish reds, but Dylan was moving her too quickly. She belatedly realized he was waltzing her closer to the main door that led back to the castle.

She felt her feet straining to follow his steps, her lack of dance knowledge forcing her to simply follow behind him, powerless to stop him or change course. The music swelled on a high note just as she met Ariel's gaze as Eric swept her past them. Ariel's eyes shifted from the Prince, laughter in her eyes to fall on Lacey's panicked, trapped stare, her smile slipping as Eric whirled her away.

The music ended with a flourish. Before Lacey could sink into a curtsey, she felt Dylan lift her slightly, turning her expertly to the stairs and escorting her down them. He nodded to the guards who were too busy watching their royal majesties.

"Dylan, stop," Lacey dug her heels into the carpeted rug of the hallway. "What is going on?"

He turned back to her. When he realized she was alarmed, he stepped back towards her, kneeling down before her skirts in apology.

"Princess Belle, my love, I apologize," he mumbled, pressing his warm cheek into her hands. She blinked, thrown off but she cradled his strong face in her gloved hands. She let him trace patterns with his fingertips over hers. "I- I was hoping to go somewhere more private. I thought perhaps if you could not agree to marry a merchant's son out of love, perhaps you could spend one last evening with him instead?"

A familiar throbbing pulsed below her stomach as Dylan nuzzled his head firmer into her skirts, blue eyes gazing up at her with promise.

Lacey sank down, her skirts puffing out as she took his face in hers and kissed him slowly. He rose up to meet her, standing and lifting her upwards with him until they were pinned to a nearby wall. Portraits of royals stared down at them in wordless disappointment.

After a heated session where her bodice moved lower and lower and her skirts rose higher and higher, footsteps stopped them as she muffled her whimpers in his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her collarbone, sweat from heat and pleasure mixing on their skins.

"Is there somewhere we can go?" He trailed his fingers along her dress, leaving sticky prints on the intricate gown.

It was hard to think after his ministrations. Her body screamed to just force his hand back and finish his teasing but the unusual weight of the tiara on her head made her take a breath. Seeing an open window and the sea beyond, reminded Lacey of a private place they would not be disturbed.

"The cove," she whispered a devilish grin on her face.

"After you, my lady," he whispered, sucking her neck until she pushed him away with a cry. She tugged his hand towards the door that would lead them down to the private beach.

After rolling in the sand, Lacey lay sated. Her bodice ripped open and her corset underneath her head in the sand, hooks and ribbons no match for Dylan's capable hands in their passion. Her skirt was crumbled beneath her, sandy and twisted. She bemusedly wondered what she would tell the maids but she pushed it out of her mind, tracing Dylan's bicep in the fading moonlight as they lay on the beach.

Dylan was quiet, not sleeping, but staring out at the sea. He watched the moons dip closer and closer to the horizon. She tugged a lock of his hair to get his attention, meeting his blue gaze with a smile.

"Can I see you again tomorrow?" she teased, rising up on her elbows to kiss him. When he pulled away, Lacey was left leaning on her elbows and blinking up at him in confusion. "Dylan?"

"Will you marry me and be my love?" He repeated, reaching out his large hand and tracing her face in the fading darkness.

"Dylan," she turned away from him. "I can't. And it's not about being a princess-"

"I can't let you go," he rolled away and stood, naked as the moons disappeared beneath the waves.

"What are you doing?" Lacey rolled over to see him picking up a rock and reaching underneath it to pull out a rubber skin. "Wait- is that a wet suit?"

He draped it about his shoulders, coming back to her and raising her into his arms. He kissed her deeply as his fingers tore the ribbons that kept her skirt tied around her waist, letting it fall way from her as she stood naked as he was in the oncoming dawn.

"Dylan," she moaned as he teased her mouth, his hands coming to her breasts and kneading them until she moaned again. "Tomorrow. Wait until tomorrow."

He stopped his ministrations and started to wade out into the water. Lacey shoved his chest in protest.

"I'm not the one who needs to cool off," she laughed. She tried to wiggle out of his arms but he held her tight, wading further into the waves. "Dylan," she said, growing serious as she noted his set jaw. "Put me down, this is not funny-"

"I'm sorry Belle, but you were the one who called me."

"What?" She pushed feebly against him but her legs were already in the water and his grip was like steel in the waves. "Dylan- stop it, I'm not kidding!"

"You'll love me," he assured her just as another voice from the cove yelled, "Ariel! Wait! Come back!"

Distracted from her own confusion, Lacey twisted to find Ariel rushing towards them. The young girl's feet kicked up sand as she raced towards the beach, Eric not far behind her. The mermaid had a look of dismay on her face. Her hands waved in warning as her mouth moved frantically but no sound escaped.

Ignoring Eric's cries for her to stop, Ariel plunged into the water after them. As the sun began to rise, Eric finally saw Dylan clutching Lacey to his chest as he continued to wade into the waves. The Prince stumbled at the sight, slipping on the sand and falling before he could right himself. Ariel kept running, her shoes falling off as she stumbled into the icy tide.

"Ariel!" Lacey shouted. She reached out to the young woman who dove into the water just as the sun peeked over the horizon and Dylan plunged them downwards into the murky unlit depths of the ocean.

Lacey struggled against him as her adrenaline spiked. She pushed against his strong chest, his heart beating madly against hers just as a white light shot around her. Lacey's eyes burned in the salt water, but she could not close them.

Before her eyes, Dylan twisted into a seal-like creature as the white glow faded from him. His blue eyes had transformed into two black eyes, hands twisting into flippers that wrapped around her and dragged her down.

Lacey opened her mouth to scream but only bubbles emerged as she was dragged into the depths of the sea.


	14. Chapter 14

As the sun rose over the seventh kingdom, rays gently cut through the curtain of night to break the embrace of the sea and sky. Light sparkled across the ocean's waves, spreading over the shoreline to where the Prince knelt in the sand. Various attendants poured down the castle stairs like ants, all calling for their prince in panicked confusion.

His blue gaze, which had been compared to the sea and sky more times than he would care to admit, focused on the receding ripples that were fast disappearing as a new wave crested in the morning surf.

"Your highness!" squeaked Grimsby. He stumbled slightly in his elevated evening dress pumps as he tottered through the damp sand towards the tide. "What in –"

The Prince ignored them all, staring out at sea with a despairing expression that stilled even the usually proper Grimsby's chattering. "Eric?" he wavered, forgetting himself in his genuine concern for his young charge. He stooped down a bit to peer in his face before looking out towards the sea. "What is it?"

Eric did not answer. He continued to search the horizon, searching for either the red glint of a young woman's hair or the glistening green scales of the mermaid tail, which had broken the water surface moments after Ariel had dived in.

Under the waves and ignorant of the scene unfolding on the beach in the dawn's early light, Lacey struggled to escape the grip of her sea creature lover.

The chill of the ocean increased as she was dragged further down to the depths, her head going fuzzy as her eyesight blackened in the growing darkness. Her bare skin was pimpled with the cold everywhere but where she was pressed to the soft skin of Dylan's new form. His powerful, large body cut smoothly through the waves, pressing her to his side with his flipper as his large tail bore them forward in the current.

Lacey pushed against him again, feebler and feebler as her oxygen dwindled away. The sunlight from above now completely faded as they passed underneath a rocky projection, an underwater grotto of sorts. With a sudden movement of his great head, the creature looked over at her, whiskers tickling her cheek which quivered in her suffocating terror.

A sudden powerful slap of his tail upwards and Lacey found herself gasping in air as their heads broke the surface, emerging in a cavern of some sort, an underwater air pocket.

Lacey greedily gasped in air, coughing and wheezing as the even colder air of the cavern burned her throat. As she sucked in the precious albeit frigid air, Lacey numbly realized the usual heaviness of Emma's tiara was notably absent. Reaching up, she pushed her hair out of her eyes. The work of Charlotte and Priscilla having held up in the back marginally even without the anchor of the jeweled ornament.

She felt oddly naked without it, as if a part of her had disappeared in the waves. Which was silly, as she was actually stark naked. Lacey clasped her arms around her bare chest, using her legs to push away from the massive creature. It stared at her shrewdly, warm black eyes gazing at her in earnest adoration. The underwater space was cold, damp, and dark, but her eyes were adjusting enough to notice that meager light was coming from a softly glowing plant that seemed to grow on the walls of the cave.

She was shivering violently, a mixture of cold, rage and fear. "I am sick," Lacey hissed at the creature, splashing away towards the rim of the cavern that seemed to be wide enough to lie comfortably on, "sick," she repeated louder, "of being carried away in the night by crazy magical animals who want to drown me!"

Her shout echoed in the cave around them. The creature snorted loudly, tossing his head in irritation before moving towards her in the water. She turned and tried to get a better grip on the rocks to boost herself up, but her shivering made it all but impossible. A sudden, upward push from the huge creature underneath her propelled her ungracefully to the rocky platform, scratching her elbow and knee painfully.

She turned to lash out at him but as Dylan lumbered himself up on the platform himself, she got a good look at his new form.

He was more sea lion than seal, a massive head with a mane of fur with close-cropped ears laid flat on his skull in challenge. His black eyes were narrowed; long whiskers twitching fitfully and his dark brown skin the same color of Dylan's tan. He lumbered closer to her, head raised proudly with his large chest thrust out. Lacey hastily backed up a bit, thankful the platform was a bit larger than she had originally noted.

Her nudity was more annoying than embarrassing and she carefully got to her feet, realizing the beast was about her height, his eyes following her carefully.

She lowered her arm, feeling her chest pebble as that feeble warmth departed. "Look," Lacey started, careful to keep the gaze of the creature before her. "Dylan, I think you may have misunderstood-"

Het let out a loud growling bark, head flipping to the side in negation. Lacey stilled, catching a glimpse of the sharp teeth lining the very powerful jaw of the thing before her.

"You can't keep me here," she tried to explain before the reality of the situation hit her. She stood naked in an underwater oasis talking to a giant mystical seal which an hour before had been her lover. Somewhere The Imp was cackling with undisguised dark glee.

She shook the random thought of him out of her mind, trying to focus back on how she was going to get out of her current situation. The creature known formerly as Dylan was lumbering back to the water, flippers smacking comically on the stone as he awkwardly waddled away from her. "Hey," Lacey called, "Wait, you have to take me back!"

But he ignored her, diving gracefully into the water and disappearing under the ripples, back down to the cold depths of the dark, deep sea.

"Great," Lacey mumbled. She shook her head in disgust as she walked towards the edge. "You're just like every other male: walk away as soon as you don't want to hear-"

She was interrupted when a red head popped out of the water, startling a small scream out of Lacey who quickly fell backwards in alarm.

"Belle!" Ariel exhaled in relief, glancing down at the water before back at her. "There you are!"

"Dylan! He's a-"

"Selkie," Ariel concluded, nodding wisely.

Lacey stared at the young woman for a moment, glancing around her before back at the mermaid, "A what?"

Ariel let out an exasperated huff, which Lacey briefly recognized as something she must have learned from her the past few days. "He's a selkie. I noticed him as you were dancing but I didn't think you would be silly enough to go down to the shore with him! What in the depths were you thinking?"

"Are you yelling at me?" Lacey asked in astonishment as she got back on her feet.

Ariel looked down guiltily and Lacey noticed the girl's corset was water-logged but still against her pale skin. "I get a bit testy when I worry," Ariel admitted, toying with the strings. "It's just- I saw the selkie drag you under and I was worried his cave would be too far out at sea for you to survive the swim."

"But Eric…" Lacey interrupted, remembering the Prince's startled face as she disappeared under the waves.

Ariel's face fell, eyes dimming before she shook her head. A small sniffle broke through the following silence before Ariel replied, "He's safe on shore, but I need to get you out of here before the selkie returns from his hunt."

"Can we go back to what the hell a selkie is?"

Ariel cocked her head at her in confusion. "I thought you were from a sea kingdom?"

"I'm not from the coast," Lacey answered, mentally thanking Eric for his brief tutorial on the politics of kingdoms for the quick excuse.

Ariel shook her head, tail flicking the surface behind her in agitation. "Selkies are shape shifters. They can shed their skin to go on land, but they have to return to the sea at day or risk being stuck on shore forever in their human form…"

Dimly recalling Dylan's nighttime appearances and his eagerness for her to accompany him to the shore, Lacey realized she had once again been ignorant enough to almost get herself killed. The safety of the Imp's castle had been boring, but she was quickly realizing how right he and Emma had been about the dangers of this world.

"…brought you back here to be his bride," Ariel concluded, unaware Lacey had stopped listening. "So, we need to go before he comes back, because I'm not sure I can outswim an alpha selkie while towing you."

"Wait, bride?" Lacey turned, catching the first half of that. "That chauvinistic- I told him-!"

"Belle, we really need to go before-"

"Oh, but my dears, you just got here!"

Ariel squeaked in fear, as from the far darkness of the cave, a tentacle came slithering out, suction cups puckering and echoing as seven other long tentacles followed, carrying out a monster from the darkness.

"Ursula," Ariel whimpered, ducking her head in subservience. "We are honored by your presence."

"Are you?" As she came into the light, Lacey realized the creature was half octopus but had a woman's torso and head, dark skin with large sagging breasts pebbled with starfish and barnacles, her hair dirty gray twisted on her head like a conch shell, seaweed tangled in like highlights. "And yet she does not bow."

Lacey stared in open amazement at the thing, glancing back quickly to see Ariel shaking in the water, head bent down in worship, but eyes wide in terror. "Ariel?" Lacey questioned, looking back at the creature before her.

"But then she is not from our realm, is she?" Ursula cooed, raising a tentacle to her cheek in comic exaggerated confusion. "In fact, I don't think she's from this world."

Ariel glanced over at Lacey in confusion before back down at the water's surface in consternation. "She's from the second kingdom, my Goddess. She's from the inlands- she does not know-"

"Silence," Ursula hissed, wrenching her gaze from Lacey to the little mermaid. "I'll get to you in a moment, you little thief."

Ariel quailed, ducking her shoulders under the water level so only her eyes and hair showed in the darkness. The creature looked back at Lacey, moving forward again as her tentacles propelled her. "Now, human, tell me, what are you doing in my realm?"

Lacey opened her mouth to respond, but Ursula shook her head, eyes narrowing in challenge. "And don't lie to me. I'm not as gullible as that little guppy."

Lacey didn't look over at Ariel, feeling the questioning gaze on her face. She worried her lip before answering, careful to keep her eyes fixed on the rocks behind the octopus-woman. "I was brought here against my will by a Selkie. I did not mean to intrude in your kingdom."

"I'm aware of that," Ursula puttered, waving a thick arm in dismissal. "You cried tears into the ocean and called him forth from the depths–"

"Belle, you didn't!" Ariel moaned, bobbing out of the water. Ursula turned on her fiercely and the small girl disappeared back into the water, her eyes the only part of her visible under her floating red hair.

"_Oh_, but she did," Ursula nodded, glancing around the cave. "And he answered. I can smell him on you human. You mated with a selkie on land, and now he has brought you to the sea to be his bride. You'll of course be dead within a week from thirst, but they don't understand those things the dumb fools.

"But what I'm really interested in," the Goddess continued, swirling closer so she was merely feet from Lacey, "is why our little mermaid here has come to your rescue."

Lacey tried to appear bored as she raised her shoulders in a careless shrug, "Hero complex?" She drawled.

Ursula's eyes narrowed into slits and Lacey found herself looking into them unwittingly. They were filled with an intelligence, power, and age that she had only seen in one other set of eyes in her life, but while hers were black inky orbs, the others had been golden reptilian.

With a sudden laugh, Ursula twisted away from her, scuttling to the water's edge before slipping in and gliding smoothly to Ariel, who twisted away slightly. Ursula grabbed her arm from below and hoisted her up roughly.

"Hey!" Lacey snapped, stopping short as Ursula raised Ariel's right arm, showing off the golden bracelet still locked on her arm.

"What a pretty bauble," Ursula cooed, fingering it gently. "Quite rare. Wherever did you get it?"

"Belle gave it to me," Ariel answered, eyes downcast and filled with an unaccountable despair. "So, I might see what it was like to walk on the shore."

"A gift?" Ursula laughed, turning swiftly to Lacey, dragging Ariel with her to the edge of the water. "And she asked for nothing in return?"

"N-no, Ursula," Ariel stumbled, holding herself as best she could to alleviate the painful grip on her arm. "I saved her from the surf." Ariel's eyes met Lacey's brown ones and she smiled even as tears sprang to her eyes.

Lacey swallowed the lump in her throat as she saw Ursula's cruel smile slide across her round face. "Oh, so she just gave it to you as a reward- "

"Leave her alone," Lacey found herself ordering the creature. Despite the tiara long gone to the bottom of the sea, she stood tall, ignoring her nudity and staring down the odd monstrosity, which bobbed below her.

"You foolish girl," hissed Ursula, raising herself in the water as it rose up around her in a fountain spring propelling her and Ariel to Lacey's height, water rolling underneath them in a tempestuous fountain. "You dare order about the Goddess of the Sea?"

"Belle, don't," Ariel pleaded, arm pinned to her side.

"Tell her the truth," Ursula demanded, black eyes flashing in delight. "Tell her or I'll break her arm and then tell her myself."

Silence filled the cave. Lacey drew in a gulp of the stale air before she turned away her glare from Ursula, softening her eyes as she met Ariel's hurt gaze.

"Belle?"

"Ariel, I'm not an actual princess-"

"That's okay," Ariel replied, shaking her head. "I knew that-"

"Wait- how?" Lacey questioned sharply. She had rather thought she had been quite convincing.

"Well, one princess can usually tell another one-"

"You're a princess?" Lacey exclaimed in astonishment, raising her hand to stop Ariel. "You didn't tell me that!"

Ariel offered a sheepish grin, but Ursula squeezed her arm and Ariel's smile slid off her face in pain. "A thieving little codfish is what you are," Ursula admonished, flinging her up on the rocky beach beside Lacey. Ariel cried out as she skidded to a stop, Lacey quickly kneeling to her and helping her sit upwards.

"Ariel," Lacey started, but Ariel looked away in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," Ariel murmured, gently touching the bracelet. "But I had to- I had no choice but to steal it."

"But I gave it to you," Lacey said in confusion, before the memory of the Imp's orders slipped into her mind. The one ingredient needed to activate the magic- "The squid ink?"

Ariel nodded miserably, biting her lip as tears sprang to her eyes.

"But you said-"

"The Giant Squid is in the northern sea sleeping. It would have taken days-"

"So you stole it," Lacey realized, looking up at Ursula. "You stole it from the Sea Witch?"

"Belle!" Ariel cried out in horror as Ursula roared in rage. Ariel pulled her down to her and clung to her in fear.

"You dare! You dare call me by that name!" The Sea Witch swelled, black ink tendrils turning the fountain blacker and blacker, the glow of the cavern moss dimming as darkness spilled from the monster before them, blackening the cave and stretching out to them, seeking them out. Ariel quivered but held tight to Lacey, vainly trying to protect her from the oncoming wrath.

"Only one dares defile me by speaking those words, you little tramp!" Ursula's eyes were glowing in the darkness, purple light spilling out around her in the black ink. "I should have known! Of course, he would send a pawn to do his dirty work!" Lacey turned in anger at this, the truth of it angering her as much as the words themselves. "Only Nix would dare-"

"Nix?" Ariel said in confusion, recoiling from Lacey. "You work for Nix?"

Laughter echoed in the cave as Lacey looked in confusion from the disgust on Ariel's face to the dark laughter of the Sea Witch which seemed to shrink the cave. "I don't even know who Nix is!" Lacey shouted over the laughter, "The Imp-"

"Has many names, you foolish child," Ursula replied. "His true name was lost generations ago, and now all know him by the names of their darkest fears. In the sea and in the coastal kingdoms, he is known as Nix. And he and his minions are _**not welcome**_ here!"

"Belle, how could you? How could you work for that thing?" Lacey turned to see Ariel looking at her in betrayal, mouth open in disbelief. "I thought…I thought you were my friend."

"Ariel, I didn't-" Lacey tried, wondering at the horror that the mere name of her protector caused in the young girl.

"This ends now." Ursula commanded, reaching out her tentacles, suction cups opening and closing to ensnare the two of them. Lacey tried to scuttle backwards, but rock was at her back and she felt the world shrink away as the tentacles loomed before her.

A sudden roar interrupted the darkness as the selkie heaved upward from the depths of the water and launched himself at Ursula. Screaming in affront, the Sea Witch was taken by surprise and knocked down into the water, the massive creature following her down, roaring and bellowing in challenge.

Lacey watched in stunned amazement as the selkie bit and snarled at the tentacles that wrapped him in their grasp, his giant head butting the sea witch's stomach, causing her to loosen her grasp, allowing him to swim closer, knocking her into the shelf ledge and stunning her slightly.

"You'll pay for that you jumped up eel," Ursula growled, reaching out for him again with her tentacles as he roared back his response and bit the tentacle wrapping around his neck in retaliation.

"Come on," Ariel hissed, grabbing Lacey's arm and dragging her forward to the water's edge. "_Come on!"_

"But-" Lacey barely managed to get out before Ariel slipped back into the water, gravity and her strong pull dragging Lacey down into the depths with her. The waves and ink from the fight obliterated her vision so she squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath as the ice needles of the water jabbed back into her skin.

An iron grip on her wrist was the only way she knew Ariel was ahead of her. She kicked her legs and waved her free arm to help propel herself down, and then when Ariel pulled her forward, she pushed forward as well. The darkness of her eyelids the only thing she could see.

After what felt like an eternity in the darkness, Lacey felt a tug pulling her upwards. She went gratefully, another few long moments of darkness, and then she felt her hand break the surface and she kicked upward, joining Ariel in the light of the early afternoon sun.

"We have to get to shore," Ariel stated, not quite looking at her. "Ursula will be sending her minions after us as soon as she finishes with him."

"But he was holding his own," Lacey started but stopped as Ariel looked back at her in irritation.

"She's the Goddess of the Sea," Ariel said with finality that Lacey had yet to see in the young girl. "He never stood a chance, and he knew it. He died protecting his mate."

"But I wasn't his mate," Lacey choked, salt water spilling down from her hair and rising in choppy waves to fill her mouth.

"Don't," Ariel said curtly, twisting towards the sun. "You called for him, bonded with him, and then got him killed. He deserved better than that."

"Ariel," Lacey said weakly, feeling confusion and guilt spread in her chest. "I didn't mean-"

But Ariel ignored her, swimming off and dragging her roughly alongside her, not speaking another word as they let the current carry them through the surf. The waves carried them closer and closer to the shoreline of the nearing landmass.

It was early afternoon by the time the waves deposited them safely on the far side of town's shore. The castle was leagues away now, the sun glistening off the towers like a far away beacon.

Lacey laid motionless in the damp sand, letting the tide ebb and flow around her as Ariel lay beside her in the surf. Neither spoke as the sun continued its journey across the sky. Lacey's mind was filled with images of Dylan kneeling before her in the gardens, full mouth pressed against her mound, pleasure flowing through her veins in a familiar way.

And now he was dead. Because of her.

Lacey couldn't even summon the energy to defend herself from the voice inside her head which sounded remarkably like the teenager beside her. She had not idea when the teen's naivety had rubbed off her on her but she felt an unusual guilt clawing at her throat as she watched the sun move across the sky.

Beside her, Ariel prompted herself up on her elbows in the surf, letting the waves break around her.

When it became obvious that Ariel had nothing further to say, Lacey opted to go off in search of clothes, knowing better than to try to speak to the mermaid. As she climbed the unsettled hill, she looked down upon the empty fields between here and the town leagues away. Glancing back over her shoulder, Lacey briefly debated whether or not to explain to the mermaid where she was going, worried that she would disappear in the ocean before she could return.

But the stubborn set of the girl's chin warned her she would be ignored regardless. Lacey set off down the hill, a small huff of frustration escaping her lips and reminding her Ariel despite her attempts to put her out of her mind for the interim.

As Lacey made her way through the fields of Eric's kingdom, the afternoon grew warmer. She spotted what looked like a main road cutting through some woods but she avoided it. Last thing she needed to explain was why a Princess of the Kingdoms was wandering around in her birthday suit.

So, she continued through the empty fields. While mildly embarrassing at first, it soon became second nature. The soft soil under her soles was comforting and by the time she finally reached civilization, she had almost forgotten she was nude.

Fortunately, it appeared to be laundry day at one of the houses along the edge of town. No one was in sight, so Lacey grabbed the first two dresses she saw. A few hours later, she returned to the beach fully dressed in a light muslin white dress. She felt an embarrassing burst of relief when she saw Ariel still sat perfectly still, half buried in the sand and waves as low tide ebbed around her.

"Hey," she greeted nonchalantly, holding out the dress. "Found some old house a few miles from here- looked like it might be some kind of summer house for one of the nobles. They were airing some dresses so I grabbed us some-"

"I don't need one," Ariel answered curtly, not bothering to look back.

"'Course you do," Lacey said, seating herself on a boulder that had lodged itself in the beach. "Sun will be down soon, and we'll have to hurry but I think I saw a main road earlier. Eric was telling me the docks close at sunset, so we won't have a problem finding someone to take us to the palace-"

Ariel flicked her tail in annoyance, smacking the water with a loud crack. "I'm not going."

"Ariel, come on," Lacey growled, rubbing sand off her skin in annoyance. "I'm not going to just leave you here-"

"He saw," Ariel said softly, hair falling in her face. "He saw me change."

Lacey remembered seeing Eric rushing after them in the sand, his face confused but determined. "I'm sure he-"

Ariel laughed, broken angry music ringing against the surf. "Why won't you leave me alone?" Ariel asked in anger, turning to look at her. "I can't return to the sea, because she's waiting for me. And I can't leave the shore, because as soon as the sun rises in the morning, I'll be a mermaid again, with no voice, no hope, and no chance of making it home."

"We'll go to the Imp! He'll–"

"Do what?" Ariel snapped. "Descale me alive? Filet me for his dinner? Debone me to hang on his wall?"

"God, no," Lacey said in horror, dropping the extra dress to the rock as she stood and approached the mermaid. Her borrowed dress was dipping down in front since it had not been tied up properly and it was too short on her, her calves bare as she waded into the surf. "I wouldn't let him."

Ariel turned her green eyes, shining with salty tears to Lacey, her mouth pinched in a tight pout as she tried to hold the tears back. "I left my people at just the chance of seeing the Prince! I threw away my life, because you gave me hope, and all to learn-" She sniffed, tears rolling down her cheeks. "To learn I aided that leviathan and his underling by giving them the most powerful thing in the seas. I am disgusted with myself, and as soon as the sea grants me its peace I'll end my life here on the shore."

The cries of the gulls and the sails of the ships out at sea were the only thing beside Ariel that managed to penetrate Lacey's haze of shock. "You are telling me you are giving up? You're just going to sit here and die?"

Ariel turned away, ending the conversation as the sun dipped below the horizon and the flash of white light left a trembling, crying girl in the surf at Lacey's feet, naked legs sinking into the sand as day ended.

"No," Lacey murmured, watching the silent sobs of the girl before her. "No, that's not happening."

She reached down and pulled the girl up. Ariel tried to wrench away, but her unsteady balance caused her to pitch to the sand, stumbling towards the boulder as Lacey dragged her to up the beach toward the dress.

"You saved me from the sea," Lacey said, mouth drawn tight as she struggled with Ariel. "Now I'm going to save you from yourself. You are getting dressed, we are going to the castle, and you are going to kiss that prince and get your stupid happily ever after."

Ariel sank down on the boulder, covering her chest and crying pitifully as she dripped salt water over the dress, refusing to look at it or Lacey.

"God, you teenagers are just the absolute biggest dramatic pains in the ass-"

"Whatever did you do to it?" came the absolute last voice she wanted to hear at the moment. Ariel gasped, falling backwards behind the boulder and shaking in terror at the newcomer who stood beside the boulder grinning at her manically.

"God, can't you magical assholes just arrive like a normal person?" Lacey snapped, crossing her arms and staring him down. "All this popping in and out of existence is annoying as hell, you know that right?"

She turned to Ariel who was frantically staring at the Imp, who was glaring back at Lacey. She ignored him. "Ariel, I'll have him turn you into a sea shell, carry you up to the palace myself, and turn you back into a brat in front of the entire court - stark naked - unless you get dressed _right now_."

Ariel bobbed her head in affront, looking at him before back at her in a clear negative. "Oh, for pity's sake," he growled. "I won't peek."

Ariel wavered a moment before angrily huffing. The Imp glanced at her in a clear indication that the little mermaid _had indeed _learned that from Lacey in their time together. Ariel dragged the dress behind the rock and started to slip it on.

"Now, want to share what you're doing here? I doubt it has anything to do with us almost getting killed because of your little spat with the she-devil of the sea?"

"Oh, that?" He shrugged, smirking slightly. "I figured you had it under control."

"That and you're too scared to set foot or hoof in her realm?" Lacey shot back, watching his eyes narrow. Point scored.

"You're fine," he dismissed, whizzing a hand in the air at Ariel. "And you managed to save the little princess here, too. Now, let's get out of this dreadful kingdom before the Witch sends a storm to wash the city away-"

A startled squeak from Ariel caused Lacey to turn, Ariel had her dress half on and ribbons dangling open in the front as she stared in horrified anger at the Imp, mouth open in disbelief.

"I'm not taking her," the Imp continued in irritation, crossing his arms. "One of you annoying females in my home is more than enough-"

"Stop being so dramatic. She's not going to destroy a whole town just to get a mermaid and a princess back-" Lacey snarled, walking past him to help Ariel lace up her dress. "You just want me to go back and go bonkers in that damn pigsty of a castle you call home." Ariel patted her hand frantically, getting in the way of her lacing up the dress. "Ariel, stop it! Stay still so I can-" Ariel grabbed her hands, pushing her around so she faced the sea. Lacey stopped short as she saw the clouds and waves, black like ink spiraling towards them in the darkening sky. Ships with white sails rushed towards the docks, the lighthouse on the hill emitting the beacon light, shining feebly against the clouds that rushed towards it like an oncoming end of days.

"You were saying?" The Imp giggled, gesturing towards the wall that was quickly growing as it advanced.

Overwhelmed, realizing she was the cause of this end and that she could do nothing but stand there and watch it come. Lacey said the only thing that came to her mind as she stared at the obvious oncoming destruction of Eric's kingdom

"Fuck."

X

Special thanks to the ever wonderful Ramloth for her awesome beta skills- she really helped shape this chapter and I would be lost without her.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! You got the resolution to Dylan (and I must say I was surprised/pleased more people weren't DOWN WITH DYLAN- way to hang with Lacey on her adventures guys!) and the introduction of a cool "villain" as well as the return of the Imp! (AKA Nix- which I borrowed from this mythology:  
wiki/Neck_(water_spirit)  
And yes I do find myself terrible clever.

So, thoughts? I am rather fond of all the readers on The Gate because I find you guys constantly blow me away with your insights and reviews. This is such a different kind of story (affectionally termed dark lace) but I really think by the end of it- it's going to be a great adventure story.

Plus, we haven't even gotten to the good part yet.

Thanks again for reading everyone!


	15. Chapter 15

Standing upon the beach as the storm crashed towards them, the small unlikely trio stared out to sea. No one spoke over the roaring of the wind.

Wind tugged at her new, too short day dress, whipping the hem violently around her calves. Lacey ignored it. Ariel was having a similar issue in her half-laced up borrowed gown. The teen appeared indifferent to it despite the redness developing along her pale legs.

"Bit much," came the bored voice from just behind her. The Imp stared out at sea with a thoughtful expression. "Can't imagine what you did, dearie, but it seems it's time to go."

"I'm not leaving her." Lacey took one final look out at the dark clouds. They hung heavier and blacker than any she had ever seen in her life.

Hurricanes were news stories and disaster relief specials, not something that actually happened.

"Careful, dearie," her protector warned as he moved towards the girl in question. Ariel looked over at him in alarm but didn't shy away from him. The Imp grinned at her, showing off his full row of hideous rotten teeth in all their glory. "I could just change her into a fish. If she survives the flotsam and jetsam, Ursula would never find her…"

"Knock it off." Lacey pushed the hair out of her face, trying to think. Ariel stood just away from her, staring in brave defiance at the Imp who seemed to be taking her measurements with his eyes. "Okay, Imp. I need you to takes us to the castle-"

"Oh," he turned, eyes dancing. Too late, Lacey realized her mistake. "Well, that's not a problem, dearie," he crowed with a toss of his head. The storm was raising his curls around his head like an aura and his unnatural skin was glowing in the early dusk. "But it'll cost you!"

"Fine," Lacey bit out. "Charge it to my account. Now let's get out of here."

The Imp wiggled his shoulders as he clasped his hands together in mirthful glee. "Oh goody," he sang as another peal of lighting lit the sky. His eyes glowed golden at her in the pure white light. Behind him, Ariel looked like she was going to be ill.

"Ariel, come on," Lacey urged as she kicked the sand from her bare feet. "We have to warn them-"

Ariel crossed her arms before promptly sitting square down in the sand. Her head tilted up at Lacey before she shrugged in defeat and twisted back to look out to sea.

"For God's sake!" Lacey cursed, fingers curling into claws at her side. "We do _not_ have time for this right now, kid!"

Ariel ignored her. The Imp had the audacity to giggle. At that moment, Lacey was unsure which one she wanted to hit more.

A flash of light from the lighthouse caught her attention; it was brief and short, followed by two long ones and then another short one.

"The hell?" Lacey murmured, peering up through the gathering gloom. Ariel's attention had been caught too, but when she saw that Lacey noticed her she quickly looked back at sea.

"It's a warning," the Imp deadpanned. "It's alerting the kingdom at large to batten down the hatches."

"Fat lot of good that's going to do them," Lacey sighed. "We have to get out of this storm or we're as good as dead."

The Imp giggled again, pressing up on the balls of his feet. "But what, I wonder, are you going to give me in return for this little safe passage?"

Lacey stared at him, letting her eyes fall shut for a brief moment as she considered the myriad of ways she could disembowel him with her own hands before she slowly opened them again. Sea salt and wind tore at her as she felt the soft patter of rain start to splash against her skin moments before she heard it.

"Listen up, Nix, or whatever your name is," Lacey growled. "You have to protect me if you're going to cash in on your little deal with Emma. So, if I die in some magical freak hurricane, you, beast that you are, are out of luck. So, you can either transport me and the mermaid to the castle this goddamned minute, or you can kiss your deal goodbye."

He stared back at her, unflinching. Then, the skies above them opened up and rain sleeted down at a hard angle. Beads hit her skin like tiny daggers and though she winced, Lacey never took her eyes off him.

"You don't have to be snippy," he finally quipped, rolling his eyes at her. "I'll get you two to the main hall so you can have you precious little reunion with the prince but," he held up two fingers, one on either hand as if to frame his next thought, "I will not be held responsible for your little fish friend beyond that. Any sign of real danger from the castle denizens, I'll pull you back to the Dark Castle before you can so much as sneeze."

Lacey nodded, but he continued, "If any harm is to come to you, it will be at my hands. Do you understand?"

Before Lacey could let fly the curse on her lips, she felt a small hand slip through hers. Glancing down, she found Ariel gazing up at her. The young girl's green eyes were sad, but a glimmer of something like trust glowed there, too.

With a squeeze, Ariel turned towards the Imp. With her free hand, she made a snapping motion. When the Imp merely raised a brow at her, Ariel huffed and stomped her bare foot.

"I think she's ready to go," Lacey smirked. The Imp gave her a sharp look for her acerbity.

"Remember what I said, dearie," he cautioned. "One hint of danger and back you come. And remember, all magic comes with a price."

"Just do it, already," Lacey spit. "You can collect the debt after I'm done fixing this mess."

Without a further word, he smiled his crocodile grin. Then, with a snap of his own fingers, the noxious purple smoke curled back up around them. Ariel clutched at her through the fumes, burying her face in her arm.

Lacey kept her eyes locked on the Imp until the fumes thickened. He kept her gaze steadily, and Lacey could almost swear he looked apprehensive as the smoke closed around them.

That's when the screaming started.

Waving away the tendrils of smoke, Lacey tried to find her voice in the midst of the chaos of which they had just appeared in the midst. Ariel was still clinging to her arm, shoulders shaking in silent shudders.

Peering from her wet bedraggled hair, Lacey managed to clutch closer her slightly gaping front as the royal hall swam into focus. It was filled to the brim with nobles but there were also men in uniform throughout the hall- looks of stern apprehension on their brows.

"Silence!" a voice boomed throughout the hall. Lacey swung her gaze to the main dais. The furious face of King Hans and the stern, disappointed gaze of Queen Christiana looked down upon her. Lacey glanced away only to find herself faced with Grimsby.

"Take this," he pressed a large coat into her free hand. Lacey numbly took it, glancing down to find a dinner jacket of a nobleman clutched in her grip. Grimsby was shaking out of his own coat, coercing Ariel to release her death grip on Lacey's arm.

"Princess Belle, what in the name of the goddess is going on here?"

Wrenching her gaze back to the King, Lacey found the full majesty of his station bearing down at her. "Your Majesty," she started but she was stopped when the Queen stood and pushed past her husband.

"Where is my son?"

Ariel's face peered out from underneath Grimsby's arm. The older man had been in the process of ushering her towards the back doors of the hall but she stumbled to a stop upon the Queen's breathless inquiry.

Grimsby met her eyes over Ariel's head. A silent warning passed between them but Lacey knew it was far too late for that now.

"Your pardon, Your Majesty," Lacey bent herself into a curtsey. " I was under the impression that Prince Eric was here?"

"He disappeared after you," King Hans announced. He nodded his chin towards a rather official looking fellow at the bottom of the dais. "He took the finest ship in our fleet to go after you two-"

"He what?" Lacey interrupted as Ariel's hand flew to her mouth to cover her silent gasp. "But he'll be killed- the storm!"

"And why is it that you two disappear from our castle at dawn only to reappear in our hall through some black magic?' King Hans demanded over her. A soft chorus of agreements rang from behind her. Lacey turned to look over her shoulder, glaring at the fawning nobility before returning her attention to the King.

"The Sea Goddess was displeased with our survival," Lacey covered. The King's nostrils flared but he remained silent as she continued. "I was taken by one of her minions to the coast-"

"Hussy," came the soft barb from the back of the room, which carried throughout the silent, straining hall. Lacey bit her lip to restrain herself as more noises of agreement floated towards her.

"We managed to escape," Lacey ground out. "Through the intervention of… the Imp."

Silence followed this statement. She briefly saw Ariel's hands waving at her, palms raised upwards as if to stop her.

King Hans glanced at the official looking fellow in the uniform again. "The Imp?"

The uniformed man shook his head, but his eyes were now on Ariel who stilled upon his notice.

Lacey scoffed in exasperation, cramming her hands into her pockets to warm them. "Never mind, who he is. We came to warn you-"

"Young lady," King Hans held up a hand for her silence. "You were washed upon our shores, came to us via a peasant and we took you in our home all for the sake of your birthright. There have been serious doubts as to your story since your disappearance this morning."

"Serious doubts?" Lacey echoed. She let out a mirthless laugh. Then, she turned to the room behind her, all waiting with bated breath. "Quiet day here at the castle? Had to start some rumors about the new girls in town? Pathetic, the lot of you."

Outraged gasps almost drowned her out but Lacey took another step towards them. The few in the front stepped back, causing a ripple effect throughout the hall. Power, heady and intoxicating, rose in Lacey's chest as she stared them all down.

"You're right. I am no mere Princess of the Fourth Realm. I am a Queen in my own land," Lacey hissed as her hands rose up from her sides. "And the girl at my side is a Princess in her own kingdom, here for the sake of your own precious Prince. None of you had the courage to rain doubts upon us when we stood before you in the crowns that are our natural birthrights, but as soon as we disappeared from your sight, you dared to speak against us?"

A motion on the far right of the room caught her eye but she continued.

"We risked our very lives to come back to warn you of the Sea Goddess's wrath. The entire kingdom is in peril and you sit here like birds in a cage! The end is outside these very windows and a stone wall will do nothing to protect you from the storm that is coming."

She heard a scuffle and as she turned, she found the uniformed guards slowly coming up behind her. The Queen looked ill, her eyes squeezed tight against the reality of their situation. The King just looked murderous, eyes shining with determination.

A sudden crack caused her to whirl towards the far back hall doors. Grimsby was sprawled across the floor blood flowing from his head. Ariel was wrestling with a guard, trying to get away from him. The guard's sword hilt glistened with the Grimsby's blood. Too late, Lacey realized Grimsby had fallen in protection of the younger girl.

"Ariel!" Lacey shouted, just as she saw the guards coming towards her from her flanks. "You get your hands off her, this instant or God help me!"

"Get her!" came the voices of the now reawakening crowd. "Get the witch!"

Ariel was kicking wildly at her would be captor. When a lucky kick found the man's groin, he groaned much to Ariel's stunned surprise. As the man collapsed, Ariel turned towards her as if to help. She was the last thing Lacey saw before the hood came down over her eyes.

"Run!" Lacey urged her.

Another voice called out, "Silence the witch!"

A heavy blow slammed into her temple, and then darkness.

"Princess Belle."

Lacey groaned at the throbbing pain at the base of her neck, rolling over in bed to alleviate it. Hangovers, she thought numbly. Just the absolute goddamn worse. She hurt all over, she was wet and she had the taste of blood in her mouth.

"Princess!"

Wait, Lacey's mind hummed at her. Blood?

"Your Royal Highness, you must get up this instant or we're both as good as dead."

As her gaze focused in the darkness, Lacey found herself looking up at the lined but familiar face of the Duke Sebastian of Flounder.

"Duke?" She managed, wincing at the new stab of pain from the small movement. "What are you-"

"You must get up," he urged. He was standing in the dim light of a torch, his back holding open a metal gate. "The guards will be back any moment from fortifying the sea wall. We have to leave now!"

"But-"

"My lady," the Duke repeated calmly. "We really must be going."

Stumbling to her feet, Lacey staggered towards him. Her entire body felt sore, as if she had been thrown to the ground and stomped upon. The torchlight hurt her eyes and she tried to shield her eyes from it. "What's going on?"

"You, my faux princess, have been sentenced to death. A young courtier saw you traipsing with your merchant's son and told the King you seduced the poor man to the cove where you used his life force to summon the storm."

"Me?" Lacey scoffed as they started down the dark hall. They passed other dark cells, either empty or with an inmate huddled in the darkest corners waiting for the end. The air was thick around them; the storm was about to break over the castle. She could heart the rain drumming against the thick stone and the wind whistled through the cracks like a siren.

"It would appear so," the Duke answered. He hurried her towards a staircase, winding up, up, up and out of sight above them. "After you," he said with a slight bow.

Staring up, Lacey found herself clutching at the walls to keep her balance. Her eyesight was fuzzy from the blow to her head and she briefly wondered if she could have a concussion.

As if to answer her unspoken question, a wave of nausea swept up from the pit of her stomach. She just managed to choke it back down.

"But it's the Sea Witch," Lacey defended. Her body railed at her from the continuous motion but something in the Duke's calmness was giving her the strength to push forward.

"And I suppose you had nothing to do with the Goddess's rage?"

Lacey turned to glare suspiciously at the Duke, pausing slightly in their climb. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because," he bestowed upon her a charming smile. In the torchlight and in their rush of adrenaline, he looked forty years younger. Her very own rogue in shining armor. "Goddess help me, I do love spunk."

Lacey let out a laugh despite herself as she turned back to the climb.

"Do you know where Ariel is?" she choked out as they spiraled upwards.

"She escaped the Royal Guard," the Duke responded. Lacey was annoyed to hear he sounded unwinded. Then again, he hadn't escaped a selkie and a sea witch and single-handedly dealt with a teenage mermaid and an infernal Imp. "Grimsby is unconscious in the sick room, but as soon as he awakens, he'll be tried as a traitor to the realm."

"What the hell was he thinking?" Lacey mumbled to herself. She was still at a loss as to why the grumpy old bag of bones had helped the mermaid, forsaking all his protocol and honor.

"Think, my girl," the Duke admonished her. "That man would die for his Prince. His prince who without rhyme or reason disappeared to sea this morn to find the woman he claimed would be his bride."

Lacey stopped, under guise of astonishment, but really just to gain back her breath. Her vision was still swimming and she felt another wave of nausea roiling in her gut.

"Eric made the claim he would marry Ariel?"

The Duke nodded as the torchlight played shadows over his face. "Royal decree that he would wed the Lady Ariel or give up the throne. Caused quite a stir this afternoon, almost as much as the stories about your disappearance."

"That romantic idiot-" Lacey slumped her head back to rest against the cool stone. The throbbing pain ebbed slightly as the coolness calmed the bruised skin. The Duke glanced behind them as a sudden shout echoed up the stone stairs. The guards had returned. The Duke made an urgent gesture for her to continue.

With a sigh and slumping of her shoulders, Lacey started back up the thrice-damned stairs. This time, the commotion of armor and ringing steel covered her ragged breathing.

"Where are we going?" She demanded as they neared a landing. "We can't go outside or we'll be blown to Oz."

"Oz?"

"Never mind," Lacey muttered as she gained the landing. The Duke pushed past her, to rap three times upon the door before them.

"Who-"

"Shush," he whispered. Lacey frowned at his back. Before she could respond, the door creaked open to reveal Priscilla and Charlotte's pale, scared faces.

"Princess Belle!" they chimed in relief, gesturing her forward. "This way!"

Lacey pushed past the Duke, stopping when she realized he wasn't following her. "Duke, come on," she motioned. "The guards-"

"Will find me waiting for them," he answered gravely. With a ringing of metal, he pulled out a large epee, sharp and gleaming in the torchlight. "Remember me to the future Queen."

"You're mad," Lacey shook her head. She reached out for him but Priscilla's hands caught hers and tugged her away.

"Hurry, Princess!"

The Duke gave her a slow nod as the door swung closed behind him.

"This way," Charlotte called. Lacey and Priscilla hurried after the younger maid, brushing past spider webs and dustsheets hanging over furniture.

"Where are we?" Lacey managed to ask as she batted away a large cobweb. Priscilla was glancing behind them every few steps.

"The lower hall," she answered, though her attention was elsewhere. "It used to be the summer quarters before the last great tide. No one uses it anymore."

Lacey noticed the effects of water damage now, the torch light from Charlotte's torch flickered over water rings and a few warped wooden panels.

Suddenly, the light disappeared around a corner. Priscilla kept moving forward. As they made the turn, a shadow accosted Lacey.

Her muffled scream of surprise was quickly replaced with "Ariel!"

The teen's face was covered in tear tracks. Charlotte was standing just behind her, looking at them both in brave worry. Priscilla stood at the rear, listening.

Lacey's hands rose to cup Ariel's damp cheeks. She used her thumbs to wipe away the tears that were still falling from the beauty's eyes. "Oh, Ariel," Lacey whispered through her own haze of fear and pain. "It's going to be okay, I promise."

A shout rang out and then another.

Priscilla nodded, "They've reached the Duke. We haven't much time."

"But the storm!" Lacey reminded them. "We need to get to the Queen, make her see reason-"

"The Queen is in mourning for her son," Charlotte whispered. "She's refusing to see anyone, even the King!"

"Nonsense," Lacey bit out. "This whole castle has gone mad-"

"Prince Eric is the only heir to the throne," Priscilla spoke up with a hint of steel in her shaking voice. "Without him, our kingdom will fall. He has made an open vow of love to the Lady Ariel and his intention to give up the throne if he cannot marry her.- Those who would take control of the castle were dancing on his grave before he even left for sea. Now in the eye of this storm, he's as good as dead."

Ariel stomped her foot, shaking her head rapidly. The two young women glanced at her in surprise as the sound of the wood door splintering cracked through the hall.

Ariel grasped at Priscilla and pointed out the window, towards the cove. Priscilla frowned and shook her head as she took the girl's hands.

"You can't go out in the storm-"

But Ariel refused to listen. She took one look at Lacey, gave her a small shrug and a tiny smile and then bolted off down the dark hall.

"Damn it, Ariel!"

"Princess!" Both maids blurted, hands rising to their chest in horror at her language.

"You two, hide!" Lacey commanded them. "If they find you, tell them you tried to stop us. Cry if you have to! Do not get in their way, do you understand? I won't have any more people dying for me today!"

They nodded with some hesitation. Lacey pointed a finger at them both, looking them dead in the eye as she fought the growing pressure of her headache. "I mean it, everyone in this damn world is so goddamn noble and I'm sick and tired of it. Hide, cry, do whatever you have to but survive."

She turned to go after Ariel when she heard, "Wait."

Charlotte handed her the torch just as the sounds of booted feet running towards them echoed overhead.

"Thank you," Lacey whispered, smiling at them both in turn. Priscilla's chin wobbled slightly but she nodded curtly, every inch a professional. Charlotte's eyes were filled with tears and she looked down at her feet before they could spill.

"You two are so much more than just maids," Lacey insisted, trying not to let her own emotion show. "So much more. Show them."

And then, she was off. She knew where Ariel was going.

She just had to get there in time to stop her.

When she finally heard the door bang open ahead of her, Lacey was close to catching up with the mermaid. Ariel may be more athletic than she was, but she had three decades with her legs and the young girl only three days.

Ahead, there was the dark glow of the evening sky and the strikes of lightning illuminating the old hall. Ariel was nowhere in sight, but the now familiar cove was before her.

Stumbling outside, Lacey nearly blew sideways as the wind hit her. The torch went out with a hiss in the maelstrom. Dropping it, Lacey pushed out farther into the cove. The stairs from the main floors were to her right.

Directly ahead of her, Ariel was shedding her borrowed jacket and gown. The fabric was snatched away by the wind, disappearing over the rocks. Ariel's pale, naked body shone in the darkness, a beacon to those desperate souls still out in the storm.

"Ariel!" Lacey called, but her voice was lost in the wind and shrieking rain. Waves crashed loud beyond them, the tide nearly to the door of the castle's lower quarters. "Ariel, wait!"

Perhaps the girl heard her or perhaps she felt her there. But Ariel turned towards her, red hair whipping around her face like a goddess of myth.

She merely smiled.

Then, without hesitation, the little mermaid undid the clasp of the golden bracelet and let it fall into the sea.

Instantly, the white light of magic enveloped them both.

When it faded, Ariel was gone.

Oddly, the pull of magic just enhanced around her. For a moment, Lacey thought perhaps everything was going to be okay.

Then, she remembered the Imp's promise. "No," she yelled into the dark sky. "Oh no, you don't! I'm not leaving them, not now!"

She raced towards the sea, wading awkwardly into the turf so she was half submerged in the one realm he could not reach. She stood to her knees in the surf, staring out at the raging sea, knowing full well she would never see either of the two young royals again.

"No one else dies for me!" she shouted into the wind. "Do you hear me Sea Witch? Do you hear me Nix or whatever your godforsaken name is! No one else!"

She closed her eyes and sank to her knees in the rising tide, her neck and face barely above the waves. The cresting high waves even this close to shore slapped her face, cold freezing water stinging her eyes and filling her mouth with salt. The pull of the current sucked at her greedily. She had no doubt the Sea Witch knew she was in her domain.

Perhaps if she took them both, she would spare the kingdom.

A ragged laugh broke through Lacey's throat as the next wave came crashing towards her.

As she felt the current envelop her and drag her out towards the sea, Lacey went boneless as her eyes rolled back in her head. She felt unconsciousness taking her just as surely as the tide was.

As she slipped underneath the waves toward her own death, her last thought was a simple question.

When had she become such a romantic?

X

Props and love to Ramloth- who despite her super busy schedule rocked out this chapter for me!


	16. Chapter 16

Death felt was _freezing_.

Fighting against the chills racking her body, Lacey balled up tighter. Another shiver ran rippled through her as her , muscles spasming seized up in pain.

She wouldn't even be allowed to die in peace in this lousy world…

"Princess Belle!"

Blinking, Lacey stared found herself for the second time that evening looking up into the wrinkled face of an elderly man. For a moment, she let herself believe.

"Duke Sebastian?" she croaked. But even just as the words left her mouth, a frigid wave of seawater came crashing down around her. Sputtering, Lacey sat upright, fully awake despite the heaviness in her head.

"No, Your Royal Highness," her rescuer struggled to stand and bow but the wind blew him too far off balance. "It's only me-"

"Gepetto?" Lacey gasped, flinching as another wave threatened to capsize the small rowboat she found herself in. "Sit back down this instant. What the hell are you even doing-"

A roar of wind came blasting from the north. With a shriek, Lacey clutched desperately at the sides of the small dinghy. Gepetto sat abruptly, clutching at the oars on either side.

"Careful!" he warned cheerfully, peering out beyond her into the rolling waves. Lacey glanced behind her. This turned out to be a colossal mistake. Waves the size of skyscrapers rose around them. By some miracle, Gepetto steered them away from the worst of them. His aged face was lined with concentration but a glimmer shone in his eyes.

Another wave threatened to capsize them Gepetto relished the challenge, leaning against the wave to right the boat. Lacey yelled out, "What is with you old men and being excited about the prospect of imminent death?"

"Death is just the next lady on our dance card, Your Royal Highness," Gepetto rowed harder into the current. "I saw you floating out to sea, near drowned. I managed to fish you out but the ocean doesn't seem quite done with you yet."

"Gepetto, you have to turn back!" Lacey reached out to grasp at the oars. Gepetto easily leaned back to elude her. His face clouded.

"I'm sorry, Princess but I can't do that."

"Why the hell not?" Lacey shouted as another wave crashed over the two of them. Pushing her hair from her face, she found Gepetto rowing harder, eyes locked on something she couldn't see in the storm.

Another wave crashed beside them, raising them up and propelling them forward. Gepetto never faltered. They scooted ever closer to the center of the storm.

"My boy," Gepetto yelled over the screaming wind. "He ran off to sea this afternoon. Jiminy went to find him but with night fall, I had to go after them."

"Because Jiminy turns into a cricket?" Lacey closed her eyes against her nausea the sea was bringing back. "Watch out!"

A sudden dark shadow under the water grazed them on the far side. Lacey fell towards the waves, faces inches away from the water's surface when Gepetto snagged the back of her soaking wet jacket and hauled her back in the boat.

"What was that?" Lacey shouted, twisting to look around.

"Monstro," Gepetto said through tightly pressed lips. "The leviathan of the sea."

"You mean the Sea Witch?" Lacey panted in confusion. "Ursula?"

Gepetto shook his head, eyes finding her briefly before turning back to the sea. "He is the Goddess's favorite pet."

She saw the dark shadow again, just off the far side of the boat behind Gepetto. He was bent forward, peering through the sleeting rain. His entire hair plastered to his head and rags soaked to his skin. He never saw it coming.

"Oh shit," Lacey groaned.

Rising behind them, an enormous black eye blinked open at her. Lacey's numb fingers clutched the side of the wooden boat tighter as the sentient pupil reflected their small dinghy back at her in the lighting flash overhead.

And with a roar of water rushing into his gaping maw, the giant whale turned his head and pushed forward against the current. Within moments, he had them in his open jaw.

"Hold on!" Gepetto shouted, clutching at the oars as he frantically tried to out-row their oncoming demise.

Lacey simply closed her eyes as the large jaws started to close around them. Seawater rushed back down the gullet of the beast with a screaming hiss and the light of the storm disappeared from overhead.

Another good man was greeting death because of her.

Figured.

When Lacey came to, she was distinctly unsettled to find herself sweating profusely.

"Gross," she groaned. Pushing her soaked hair from her eyes, she started to shrug out of the still wet coat Grimsby had thrust upon her.

Finding her feet, Lacey tried to piece together what had just occurred. Once again, she had been on the brink of death and was somehow snatched from its jaws.

Rather literally this time.

A faint echo came from the darkness around her. For a moment, she struggled to hear it but it came again, clearer this time, "Princess! Princess Belle?"

"Gepetto?" She called out, taking a tentative step. She nearly pitched forward as the rubbery, moving texture beneath her shifted at her slight shift in balance. "Gepetto, where are you?"

Gingerly stepping into the darkness, Lacey muttered to herself, "Better yet, where am I?"

"Careful!" came the old man's voice. "We're in the stomach."

"I'm sorry," Lacey breathed heavily through her nose. "We are where now?"

"In the belly of the beast," came the reply out of the darkness.

"Oh no, this is not happening," Lacey let her head fall back. "I am not going to die by whale digestion."

"Princess, can you make your way over here? I found our boat."

Lacey slowly picked her way towards his voice. "The boat is still in one piece?"

"You sound surprised!" he replied heartily. "I'll have you know, Your Royal Highness, I used to be quite the seaman before I settled down to carpentry."

Trying to walk in the darkness, she found herself sinking into something hot and mushy. Recoiling, she felt bile race up the back of her throat. Gagging back the hot liquid, she brought her shaking hands to her face. The clammy feel of her pruned fingertips was a relief for a mere moment before they started to warm.

Lacey needed him to keep talking if she was going to find him, "Why retire?"

"The sea is no place for a family man," Gepetto's voice held a hint of regret. "My wife wanted me to give up the sea in the hopes of being blessed with a babe. The Goddess never answered our prayers."

"But Pinocchio," Lacey shook her head, taking a deep breath before starting forward again.

"A blessing. But not from the Goddess."

"Nix?" Lacey guessed before she could think better of it.

"Goddess protect us!" Came the affronted reply. "Everyone knows not to deal with that blackguard."

"Right," Lacey murmured to herself. "Nix on the Nix, Lace."

She stopped when she realized she had hit a large obstacle of some sort. It was slimy but solid. She had little interest in finding out what it was. "Gepetto?"

"Over here!"

Turning towards the right, Lacey made her way towards a spot of pale yellow in the darkness. "So, Pinocchio was a blessing?"

"From the Blue Fairy herself."

"The who?"

Another rolling of the beast caused his stomach floor to convulse slightly. Lacey fell to one knee, her hand sinking into the slimy texture of his stomach lining. Lacey briefly wondered about the absence of stomach acid. Then, she remembered Gepetto saying this was Ursula's favorite pet.

She had some idea where they were headed and why they were still alive.

"Magic?" Lacey pressed on. She heard Gepetto's breathing now, so she knew she was getting close.

"Yes," came the muffled reply. The yellow light grew brighter. "Can you see the lantern?"

"You have a lantern?" Lacey asked in disbelief. "Talk about a boy scout."

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a boy, Your Royal Highness," he replied cheerfully. "But yes, Pinocchio is a very special child."

"So, in the daylight-?"

"He turns back to the wooden puppet I carved for my wife. She loved the little marionette. In her final delirium, she thought of him as her own son. When she passed, I took to eating with him and talking with him. I loved him as I would have loved a child of my own flesh and blood."

"And then the Blue Fairy came?" Lacey guessed. She saw Gepetto raise his hand to her, waving her onwards as he lifted the lantern to light her way. "Made him a real boy?"

"Yes," Gepetto offered her his hand and helped her into the boat. Lacey sank to the seat with a sigh, burrowing her face in her hands. "She told him if he was brave and true, he might fully become a real boy in time. But years have passed, and now he has given up all hope of being anything but puppet by day and boy by night."

"And Jiminy?" Lacey mumbled through her knees. "Where did you get a magical bug?"

"Jiminy found us," Gepetto relayed with genuine fondness in his voice. "He functions as the voice of reason in our home. He understands the magical bonds and restraints that bind Pinocchio that I do not. He gives comfort when I cannot fathom the possibilities." Gepetto trailed off before sadly confessing, "But I fear this time, it's too late. If Pinocchio truly loses his heart, he'll turn back into a wooden puppet for good."

"That's why you're out here?" Lacey raised her head to stare at him. "You're here to save him from himself?"

Gepetto gave her a weary smile. Lacey shook her head as she let her face fall back into her palms.

"Parents," she muttered.

"The love for a child rivals true love itself, Princess," Gepetto said kindly. "I would do anything for my son."

"Like foolishly rowing out into the middle of a hurricane?" Lacey sniped at him.

"A fool decision which saved your life," he reminded her.

"I was prepared to die," Lacey shot back as she twisted away from him. "In fact, my death might have saved you, your son, and the damned cricket. The Sea Witch wants me dead, and this storm was her way of ensuring it."

Gepetto stared back at her in deep thought. Lacey looked away, sighing and crossing her arms around her chest.

When a gentle touch upon the back of her hand caused her to look back at him, Gepetto was taking her hand in his with a fatherly smile.

"You were prepared to die for a kingdom of strangers, Princess Belle," he said. Lacey found tears crowding her vision, and she tried to blink them away. "Now, tell me. Is that so very foolish?"

"Yes," Lacey choked out.

Gepetto shook his head at her, squeezing her hand in his wrinkled ones.

"No," he whispered. "It's very brave."

She told herself she didn't believe him. She told herself she was to blame. She thought of Ariel and Eric, who may have lived long lives without her interference, about Graham who came rushing after her in the forest, Dylan's smile in the gardens, and Duke Sebastian's final goodbye.

And now Gepetto who had saved her from the sea's grip twice was going to pay for his kindness with his and possibly his son's life.

Lacey let herself fall into his arms as sobs overwhelmed her. As the lantern flickered with the motion of the whale through the waves, Lacey, for the first time in years, let herself be comforted.

It couldn't have been more than an hour later when a high-pitched whining echoed throughout the cavernous blackness.

Both Lacey and Gepetto immediately clapped their hands to their ears. The screeching increased in volume before a sudden jolt nearly tossed the two from their perches.

Lacey saw Gepetto mouthing something at her in the light of the lantern. "What?" she shouted back, but the words were lost in the higher frequency. Gepetto made a down motion with his free hand before clasping it back to his ear.

"I don't understand. What-" Lacey yelled. Gepetto made another downwards motion before he placed his own head between his legs. Understanding, Lacey dropped her own head in between her legs as well.

Another jolt caused her to slam against the side of the rowboat but her curled position kept her inside the wooden structure.

A large roaring quickly replaced the continuing squealing. Glancing up from her hunched position, Lacey saw Gepetto doing the same. As a look of dismay crossed his face, Lacey twisted her head around to see what was happening.

A rush of seawater barreled towards them, the rolling black waves visible even in the meager light. Gepetto grabbed a hold of the oars with the crooks of elbows and Lacey released her ears to grasp at the side of the rowboat.

She saw him shout something which could have been either "hold on" or "blow hard".

She chose the first one, clutching at the splintering wood for dear life. As the first waves slammed into the boat, she pitched forward with the forward momentum. Gepetto's shoulder caught her and she fell backwards as the boat lifted up from the stomach's bottom.

Gepetto was already straightening to row against the tide but another wave slammed them further back into the blackness. Lacey saw the lantern pitch from its precarious position between Gepetto's legs.

Releasing her death grip on one side of the boat, she leaned forward to snag it before it could tip over. Raising it overhead, she met Gepetto's gaze. He smiled at her in approval, gesturing with a nod of his head.

Another roar of seawater rushed into the cavern, slower this time but still quite rapid. Lacey fought to keep her seat in the tumultuous rocking of the ship while keeping the lantern raised for Gepetto.

The motion of the ocean caused the nausea from earlier to return with a vengeance. Keeping her eyes on the floor of the boat, she tried to hold it back. But another lurch caused her to lose her slip of control and she turned to the side of the boat to release the meager contents of her stomach into the dark waves. Another heave of her stomach followed and then a third but Lacey kept her hand holding the lantern high as she could in this position.

She heard Gepetto's voice in the booming of the water as it filled the stomach of the beast, but it was drowned out when the high-pitched whine returned.

Closing her eyes and leaning her chin to the side of the boat, Lacey fought the wave of dizziness spinning behind her eyes. Without warning, the squealing slipped into a low, deep hum, broken up in long and short bursts.

"Just let me die," Lacey moaned into the wooden side of the boat. Shards of wood pricked her cheek but she pressed harder against them to center herself against the dizzy spell.

Another jarring lurch caused her to come completely out of her seat for a moment, before crashing back down again. She felt the lantern swing away from her into the darkness before it banged back against her forearm.

The hot searing burn of the glass against her bare skin caused her to cry out but she didn't dare drop it. Without light, they were as good as dead.

"Steady, Your Royal Highness," Gepetto shouted over the sloshing of the waves in the giant chamber. "I can see the uvula!"

"The what?" Lacey shouted back through the seawater splashing against her face.

"The uvula!" Gepetto replied cheerfully as another wave hit them on the far side.

"I don't know what you're saying!" Lacey cried out. "We're in the middle of a giant whale's stomach rowing for our lives and you're actually enjoying this!"

Gepetto's laugher quickly disappeared as the waves started to roll back towards whence they had come. "Here we go!" he yelled, pushing his arms forward and then slamming them back.

Lacey felt the boat scoot forward before slamming back down into the water. "You are crazy!" she screamed at him, slamming her free hand down on the bench beside her. "Absolutely nuts!"

If he heard her, he gave no sign. With another massive hiss, the water stilled its forward movement. As the boat settled back into the water, Lacey glanced furtively around, trying to figure out what was coming next.

"Oh, no" Gepetto muttered to himself. The softly spoken words echoed in the eerie silence of the now still waves.

"What?" Lacey demanded, glancing out into the stillness surrounding them. "What's happening?"

"We're about to get out of this creature," the old mariner explained, eyes looking upwards.

"Well, that's good right?" Lacey held the lantern out over the edge of the boat in the direction where Gepetto had been rowing earlier. "I don't see-"

"Not that way, Princess Belle," Gepetto corrected. He flexed his arms as he rolled his shoulders back. His chin was tipped upwards, staring towards the ceiling.

"Is that-" Lacey started as the glow of stars winked into existence above them. "Is that the sky?"

"Sure is," Gepetto intoned.

"How can we see the sky in the stomach of a whale?" Lacey demanded, staring upwards in captivation. "It's like a sky light-"

"The blowhole," Gepetto corrected. "Whales breathe air just the same as you and me, Your Royal Highness."

Before she could respond, the water below them suddenly bottomed out. Lacey belatedly realized the waves had buoyed them up so they were closer to the top of the whale. Now, as they plummeted downwards, she had a decent idea of what was about to happen.

"No," she groaned. "No, this is not happening."

"I'm afraid it's this or a slow death of starvation and thirst," Gepetto explained gently, eyes locked on where the blowhole had disappeared from their view.

"You don't know that," Lacey said hotly. "Maybe we'll get lucky and just drown in here!"

As if to negate that possibility, the water suddenly thrust upwards as the great beast exhaled at the surface of the ocean. Lacey felt her mouth open in a scream, but the noise was lost in the rush of air and water being thrust upwards.

She felt the lantern rip out of her hand as she reeled backward. As it disappeared in the water beneath them, Lacey lost her sight as her eyes failed to adjust to the darkness.

Squeezing her eyes shut against what could only be imminent death by either being pulverized against the ceiling by the waves beneath them or certain death by being thrown through the sky and back into the tumultuous sea, Lacey didn't see the sky coming into view.

In the black behind her eyelids, Lacey found herself picturing her old apartment in the city. Empty wine bottles lined around the kitchen floor, dishes in the sink and books piled in corners.

Comfortable, familiar, safe.

She heard Gepetto's yell of challenge, a wordless noise of defiance before she felt the brush of wind against the back of her neck.

They were out.

And then, she was weightless, floating through the air.

She willed her eyes open as she felt another scream rip through her throat. She saw Gepetto being pulled away from her as gravity wrenched them both from the burst of air expelled by the whale.

Thrusting her arm out towards him, she managed to snag the back of his vest. Though he didn't look it, the old man weighed more than she. He quickly dropped back down towards the sea below them.

With only the moon and stars above them, Lacey didn't see the surface of the water until it was near at hand. Remembering her one summer at the camp by the lake, Lacey released Gepetto. She raised her burned arm to her chest, squeezed her eyes shut and snapped her mouth closed as she pulled her body into a straight line.

Thankfully, the water was breaking against the sides of the great whale. Lacey felt her feet hit the water, just as a wave crashed down, displacing the water surface. As her head disappeared beneath the waves, she struck outwards, trying to swim away from the beast.

Before she could get further than a few strokes, a sudden weight wrapped around her left arm and then another swirled around to envelop her right ankle. Straining from holding her breath, Lacey fought against the instinct to gasp out in alarm. Twisting, she looked around to find two green-gray bands wrapped around her appendages.

With a flick of her wrist, she attempted to dislodge one only to find it tightening. Bringing it closer to her body, she felt it strain against her own muscles. Flexing harder, Lacey tried to free herself again, only to find two beady white eyes staring at her from the end of it.

Bubbles escaped her lips as she yelped in surprise, seawater rushing into her lungs. Coughing, she only inhaled more of the poisonous water. As her body went into convulsions, she felt the two eels pull her forward. Powerless in her current state, Lacey let them.

She was unsurprised when she felt her head break the surface of the water.

The eels suddenly dislodged, and a wave propelled her forward, her knee bursting with pain as it came into contact with a hard surface.

With a wild grab, Lacey clutched at what appeared to be a coral reef, the rough corals scrapping against the raw burn on her forearm. She ignored the pain radiating from her knee cap, pushing forward until she found herself half out of the water, laying in the cold wind of the night breeze.

After retching up the seawater in her stomach, Lacey let her cheek rest on the cold porous surface of the marine oasis. The waves broke around her, crashing against the small of her back where her hips and legs still dangled in the tide.

A moment passed before she felt her head start to clear from the adrenaline. She opened her bleary eyes, looking out into the black abyss of the night sea.

"Gepetto?" She croaked, coughing again as seawater splashed into her open mouth. Straightening, she pulled her legs up a little more. She tried again, "Gepetto!"

But the breakers swallowed her cries and no response came back from the waves.

"Gepetto!" She cried out, sinking her forehead back down to the hard coral. She let tears eke out from her stinging eyes as she crouched in the middle of the ocean. "Gepetto, goddamn it, answer me!"

"Such language!"

Lacey recoiled as if she had been hit as she scrambled as far out of the sea as she could on the small surface.

Mere feet away from her, rising up in the foam of the waves, the Sea Witch smiled at her with a sardonic glint in her eye.

"Now, now, _princess_," the Sea Witch chided as she grinned down at her from the high wave she was riding. "It's time we ended this."

In her left hand, she held out a triton, gleaming gold even in the meager light of the moon. With relish, she aimed it straight at Lacey's heart.

Lacey barely saw it. She was too focused on the Sea Witch's right hand. For in its clutches was a little mermaid.

"Ariel…."


	17. Chapter 17

Thunder crackled in the distance as Lacey hoisted herself upwards from her crouched position. The storm overhead annihilated the light from the heavenly skies, but Ursula emitted a sickly bioluminescent glow. Ariel's face was downcast, pale and drawn as she stared into the churning waves. Her tail hung limply below her, fins barely touching the water in Ursula's grip.

"I'll admit," Ursula sang out. "I was not surprised to find the guppy had sacrificed herself. But you, my dear? That was surprising."

Lacey didn't respond. Fear choked her as she gazed into the cold, black eyes of the Sea Witch. The sea raged and spat at her from her perch on the rock, and she knew she was blue with cold, shaking with terror, and heart racing with adrenaline.

"I'm full of surprises," she snarled. Ursula's eyes narrowed at her as Ariel swung her head to her in horror. "Ask anyone." Hysteria was rising in her throat, her words somehow rising over the howling of the storm as it battered and breached the mainland somewhere miles behind them.

"You mistake stupidity for bravery," Ursula told her snidely. "But it's no matter, the waves bow to my power."

Just behind Ursula, Lacey noticed a shadow on the waves. At first, she took it to be Monstro, but it never disappeared from the horizon. It grew larger and larger as it neared them. It almost looked like a ship, but the rowboat had been destroyed and all the other ships had been called to shore.

As realization sunk in, some small flicker of hope caught in her chest. Lacey couldn't restrain the giddy grin that crossed her face. "Nix couldn't even be bothered to come deal with you himself," Lacey shouted back. "What does that say about your almighty power, you overgrown sushi roll?"

Affronted, Ursula shook the trident in rage. "Overgrown, am I?"

The Sea Witched seemed to swell before her, growing larger until she was the size of a small house and still growing. Lacey, stunned, took a step backwards, only to slip on the slick surface of the rock and fall to her knees.

She cried out as her elbow scraped the rough surface. Glancing down she found beads of blood popping on her skin. Before her, she heard the sounds of a struggle and she looked up, just in time to see Ursula heave Ariel at her like a missile. Leaning out, Lacey managed to snag the girl's hand as she bounced into the tumultuous waves beside the rock. They both cried out at the sudden tug on their arms, but Ariel's fingers quickly grasped her wrist. Lacey managed to pull her upwards until the pale girl lay beside her, feet still dangling in the sea.

They clutched at each other as Ursula continued to grow and twist, until soon they were crouching before a leviathan. "Ultimate power!" The thing crackled as lightning split the sky behind it. Lacey's eyes darted to the dark horizon, searching for the shape, when it flashed into view, before disappearing as another swell dipped it back to the surface of the sea.

Putting her arm over Ariel, Lacey hugged the girl closer to her. Tendrils of wet hair clung to her skin as the younger girl wrapped herself around her, burying her face in her breasts as she prepared to meet her death. "It's okay," Lacey whispered to her as the creature overhead continued its mad tirade. "Everything's going to be okay."

She had no idea if she was lying or not, but she had to believe it. If nothing else, she owed Ariel some small iota of peace. She stroked the other girl's back, murmuring reassurements as the wind began to increase. Lacey suddenly felt a razor sharp piercing sensation on her leg. She wrenched it, bleeding, away from the foaming waves.

Except it was more than waves rolling and twisting about the rock. The eels had returned. Easily noticeable in the fray were the two larger ones that had dragged Lacey to the surface, one's mouth thick with her blood. A whole nest was splashing in the waves, all leaping and flailing as they tried to gain access to the rock's small surface. Lacey kept Ariel's head averted at the sickening noise, but she had no doubt the girl heard the cries and shrieks of the screaming eels.

"You will learn your place before your death," came the booming proclamation as the Sea Witch raised her hands to the heavens. The trident glowed golden in the inky blackness, a warm tone so at odds with the purple sickly glow of the creature.

"Ariel," Lacey whispered. "Can she be killed?"

Ariel shook her head in uncertainty, fingers tightening on Lacey's arms as a sob wracked her body.

"Okay, plan B," Lacey muttered. "Can she be distracted?"

Large green eyes shone up at her, and then, the little mermaid offered a queasy smile as she nodded earnestly.

"That a girl," Lacey said determinedly. "She's got her creatures pretty worked up but I think we might have a chance-"

"Mortals!" Hissed the creature, growing aware that her powerful display was going unnoticed. "I shall sink all the kingdoms below the waves, bring all of this world into my domain!"

In the sea, the Imp was powerless. But she was not technically in the sea…

"I thought this was supposed to be the Sea of Silence?" Lacey hollered back over her shoulder. "I can't even hear myself think over all your showboating!" Ariel's eyes flashed in worry but when she caught Lacey's nod, she stilled.

"You dare? You dare order the Goddess of the seas to silence?"

"You heard me," Lacey stood, standing before Ariel as she twisted back to face the Sea Witch. "Imp!" She whispered as loud as she dared under her breath, throwing her hand up. "I wish to make a deal!"

As the words left her mouth, she felt the familiar touch of magic as it brushed past her, swirling on the winds of the storm only to break apart against the massive girth of the Sea Witch.

Both of them stood motionless before Ursula began to laugh uproariously. She pointed her glowing trident down at Lacey, quaking with laughter as the winds picked up her seaweed-tangled hair. "Fool! As if the magic of a mere Enchanted could –"

Lacey never found out what the magic of an Enchanted could do. Not an instant later, the Sea Witch pitched forward with a gurgle of surprise. Her head fell back as the black storm clouds swirled overhead before the Sea Goddess Ursula groaned in mortal pain.

The sharp point of a ship's bowsprit had impaled her, breaking through the scales of her torso. Unable to twist and grab the ship with her hands, the goddess moaned as the black ink of her blood began to escape into the rolling waves.

Lacey found Ariel clutching at her, pulling her back down beside her as the large tentacles rose up from the sea to wrap themselves around the ship. It was only then that Lacey noticed the few black shapes marring the already tumultuous sea.

One was drifting closer to the rock. As the rain pelted her face, Lacey just barely made it out. It was a small dinghy. And standing on it, face upturned in horrified marvel was the face of a small boy.

"Pinocchio!" Lacey hollered over the sound of the storm and the splashing screams of the eels. Even as she watched though, they began to quiet and disappear, leaving the rock as they sank back into the depths of the sea. The boy did not hear her at first, but when she repeated it, he turned in confusion.

She knew the instant he recognized her. He crossed his arms in a snit, glaring at her through the few feet that separated him. "Ariel," Lacey tugged at the other girl's arm. Ariel, aghast, was watching in horror as Ursula's death throes began to drag the ship into the deep. "Ariel, I need you to tow that boat over here, quickly before it wrecks on the rocks."

Sparing her a quick glance, Ariel slipped into the sea. Lacey watched as the powerful swimmer made it effortlessly through the raging waves to grab a hold of the boat. Wrapping her hand in the rope dangling from the side, she made the swim back with ease, depositing the rope in Lacey's hand as she bobbed beside it in the water.

"Pinocchio," Lacey shook her head. "What are you doing out here?! Your father was worried sick!"

A look of guilty unhappiness crossed the boy's face as he sniffed, "I want to go home."

"Yeah, well, you and me both," Lacey growled but she hopped into the boat, less gracefully than she would have liked, to grasp the oars.

"Princess!"

Twisting, Lacey found a cricket staring up at her from Pinoc's wet and bedraggled overall pocket. With a sigh, she glanced down to find Ariel peering curiously over the side of the boat. "Jiminy, good job on the rescue mission."

An angry chirp was her response before he continued, "Prince Eric! He's still on the ship!"

A bolt of lightning crashed overhead, illuminating the look of desperate fear on Ariel's elfin features. Then, as the thunder rolled just after it, her face grew serious.

Before she could stop her, Ariel pushed off from the boat towards the half sunken ship. Black inky tendrils were wrapped around it as a lover's embrace, cracking the ship hull near in two as the waves slowly lapped up to accept the offering.

"Ariel, no!" Lacey cried out, nearly tipping the boat over as she tried to catch a hold of the little mermaid. Her hand plunged into the cold surf, catching nothing but a chill.

For a heartbeat, she let herself stare towards the maelstrom before she lifted her chin and turned back to face the small boy and Enchanted cricket. "Can you row?"

The boy nodded hesitatingly, wiping the back of his face with his sleeve. Lacey nodded back as she handed him an oar. She did not remark on the tears on his cheeks. "We need to get back to shore."

"Follow them," Jiminy chirped and Lacey turned to find a few other dinghies' were quickly overtaking them, men cold and huddled looking at her in open astonishment.

"Care to explain?" She asked the cricket, putting her back into the first row and finding the tides push against her oar. Memories of a rowing class at her local gym swam to the front of her mind as she and the small boy began to row against the tide towards home.

"Well," the indignant response came. "This is all your fault, you know."

"Of course it is," Lacey sighed. "But if you wouldn't mind explaining-"

"You, coming to the house with the Crown Prince!" he sang up at her in a fury, hopping as best he could in the boy's pocket. Pinocchio just looked downcast, ignoring her eyes as he rowed.

Pushing her shoulders back as a sharp pull almost caused her to lose grip on the oar, Lacey swore under her breath, causing the two sitting across from her to audibly gasp.

"What?" she demanded, continuing the motion of rowing despite her arms starting to cramp. "You've never heard a lady curse before?"

Pinocchio shook his head rapidly, big eyes glistening. Realizing she could see him much clearer, Lacey twisted around until she could see the horizon, noticing the pinks and oranges of sunrise beginning to break over the sea.

"You might want to get out there," she said pointedly to the cricket. He opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut with an angry nod. Pinocchio paused in his rowing, carefully laying the oars down as he gingerly lifted his friend from his pocket to sit before him. He carefully sheltered the cricket from the rain. All of this left Lacey to row on her own, causing her to release more unladylike language. She caught the stunned look of a nearby sailor and frowned at him. "What are you looking at? You want to come over here and help me or just stare?"

Happily, she was saved from his response as a glowing white light suddenly pierced her vision. She raised her forearm, careful to keep a grip on her oar, to shield her eyes. When she lowered it, Jiminy was sitting between her and the younger boy, glaring at her.

"He ran away to sea! Poor Gepetto was beside himself!"

"And how is that my fault?" Lacey yelled back. "Grab an oar and help me!"

Muttering darkly, Jiminy grabbed the oar, plunging them oversea as he matched her strokes. "Because he would have never thought about it if the Prince hadn't suggested–"

"I would too have!" Lacey faltered in her rowing as a wooden puppet popped up behind Jiminy's back. He looked just like Pinocchio, down to the judgmental scowl and button nose and full bow lips. She remembered Gepetto telling her all about his wooden puppet that his wife had loved so much it had given him life. "I hate hiding in the house. I hate it in the village! I hate being a puppet! I wanna be a real boy!"

"Pinoc," Jiminy sighed. "Come here." The puppet clacked over until he sat in the boat between them, frowning up at Jiminy in childlike hurt. Jiminy looked at her, but she simply shrugged her shoulders at him. The other boats had pulled ahead slightly as the shore began to loom in sight.

Even as they continued to row in silence, Pinocchio's soft sniffles made her skin tighten unpleasantly. She avoided Jiminy's gaze as she tried to find a way to tell them that Gepetto had not only followed them to sea, but had vanished in its depths.

Her eyes traced the intricate woodwork that formed Pinocchio, the frames were beautifully done and she could see the love and care Gepetto had put into the construction of him.

"You know, kid," Lacey said, surprising the others. "Your dad told me about…you know, the enchantment." He turned to look at her, even as Jiminy frowned at her over his head. "He loves you a lot. You know that right?"

He gave a hesitant nod. "But he won't let me out of the house."

"He's not ashamed at you," Lacey told him, feeling blisters begin to form on her palms. "He was trying to protect you."

Angry, the boy stood up, swaying dangerously as he avowed, "I don't-"

"Pinocchio!" Jiminy warned, and the boy hung his head as he sat back down.

"I don't need protecting," he said lowly. "I'm a real boy."

Unsure of herself in this odd situation, Lacey fell silent. After a moment, Jiminy tilted his head at her, urging her to continue.

"Uh, well, I got news for you," Lacey started. "I'm a real girl, and I'm terrified most of the time."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Lacey confessed. "I'm scared out of mind right now. I just want to go home to my own bed, with my own sheets, and my own clothes. I never want to see the ocean again, and I want nothing more than a shot of tequila with a chaser,"

Both of them stared up at her in confusion. She groaned and then continued. "But the point is, I'm scared. Real boys and girls, Papas and Mamas, we're all scared sometimes. Being fearless doesn't make you real. It's being brave in spite of the fear."

"So," Pinocchio said, his voice wavering. "I can be scared?"

"Yeah," Jiminy said, his voice thick. "You can be scared."

"Okay."

Lacey looked up, focusing on the blue sky that was spreading as the sun rose higher. She felt the tears backing up, ready to fall down her cheeks if she gave in even at all. She hated the world at that moment, she hated the boy in front of her and the cricket man that was rowing alongside her, she hated the Imp and Emma and the damn crown prince with his mighty intentions.

But most of all, she hated herself.

When the boat finally hit the dunes of sand, the crew of the ship was there to haul them off it. Jiminy was met with some excitement, apparently he had gone missing on the main ship shortly after sunset and they had thought he had gone overboard in the storm.

Pinocchio, on the other hand, was met with warm embraces.

"Thought we lost you!"

"Gave us quite a scare, boy!"

"Natural seamen! Did you see him? No fear!"

None of them seemed to notice or care he was made of wood. The young boy beamed up at them, blissfully happy as they all chatted away.

A small group of villagers had gathered, drawn to the beach by the unusual activity. Lacey watched as Pinocchio began to move towards them, eyes bright with pride as he went towards them. Jiminy followed right behind him, both of them twisting their heads around as if they were-

Realization hit Lacey just as Pinocchio called out in consternation, "Papa? Where are you, Papa?"  
Jiminy looked perplexed but as he turned back, he met her eyes. A look of confusion fell over his features, and then a moment later realization. Lacey looked away find a familiar face from the village at her side.

"Gil, wasn't it?" She asked, thankful for the distraction. The mane quickly helped her to sit on a nearby overturned dinghy. A few quickly stood up from it, all staring at her in growing interest.

"Princess Belle, thank the Goddess, it is an honor to see you again."

"The Goddess had nothing to do with it," Lacey murmured, wincing as her fingers cramped unpleasantly. "Have you seen Ariel?"

"Belle!"

Standing, Lacey hurried forward. Pinocchio was on Jiminy's shoulders, pointing out to sea. Just as the last wave of the morning tide rushed in, a tumble of red hair and pale skin flashed before disappearing back beneath the waves.

"Ariel!" Lacey shouted, rushing forward. Her oversized borrowed jacket flapped behind her in the air, as she stumbled and fumbled down to the surf's edge.

As the tide retreated, it left the little mermaid, curled protectively around the prize she had been carrying. Lacey fell to her knees beside her, peering down at Eric's pale and lifeless face.

Lacey felt the men behind her, all gathering to pay their respects to their fallen leader. As someone's hand fell on her shoulder, she heard the others whispering behind her, the word mermaid and cursed rising and falling in hushed tones.

"Tis the Goddess's will," came the hushed voice of Gil beside her.

"Bullshit," Lacey told him, shrugging him off. "He's not going to die. No one else is going to die today."

"Belle," she heard Jiminy's strangled voice and she looked up to see him staring down at her, anguish written over his face. "So, he's…"

"I'm so sorry," she answered the question he hadn't dared to ask, letting him know what she couldn't tell him earlier. She saw the heartbreak and disbelief flood his face as she looked back down at the young man lying in the sand before her.

"Move," she told Ariel roughly, nudging the girl aside. Kneeling on the warming sand, Lacey opened Eric's mouth with her fingers, checking to make sure his airway was unobstructed. A few men cried out at this, but Gil must have held them back for none disturbed her.

Putting her hands in the center of his chest, she began to push down, counting to thirty in her head. She made the movements hard and fast, her arms protesting at the motion after her rowing.

Titling the royal's head back by lifting his chin, Lacey put her palm on his forehead and made sure his airway was fully open. Her palms were sweaty and covered in sand, dusting his raven locks with golden speckles. She hoped to God or whoever was listening that she remembered this from summer camp as she pinched his nose shut.

Leaning down, she covered his mouth with hers, blowing as she watched his chest rise. After two breaths, she lifted away to check if he was breathing. Ariel was staring at her in confused bewilderment, tears leaking down her cheeks. Someone had draped their jacket over her naked breasts, and she clung to it with one hand, the other holding Eric's lifeless hand.

Lacey repeated the thirty compressions, going slightly faster as she bent back down to tilt his chin up. The beach was falling silent as the men watched, all crowding around her in confusion at her actions. She heard murmurs of "witch" and "magic" but she ignored it. Magic wouldn't help her now.

Finally, as she breathed into his mouth for the fourth time, all hope fading from her chest, she heard him sputter as water came up from his lungs.

"Prince Eric!" Gil cried behind her, helping him sit up. Lacey was almost knocked sideways as the men hastened to their leader's side, but Ariel caught her and steadied her.

"What?" The young man was saying dazedly, lifting a hand to his brow where the sand was thickest. "Where am I?''

"You saved him!" Gil cried, turning to her with a joyous expression. "True Love has conquered death!"

Lacey shook her head rapidly, holding her hands up before her. "It's CPR," she told them. "Science, not magic."

Blank looks were returned to her and she sighed. "You'll get there eventually."

In the interim of this, Eric had found Ariel's gaze in the turmoil, and he slowly rose, sand falling off him as he walked the few feet just to sink back to his knees before her. He raised a shaking hand, lifting it to the young girl's cheek, and he whispered, "I was looking for you."

Ariel smiled in painful joy, tears leaking down her face as she buried her face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair as he murmured words of love and affection into her cheek.

"Kiss her!" Lacey found herself hollering, smiling despite herself. "Go on! Kiss the girl!"

A few men behind her agreed based on their hoots and whistles. Eric blushed deep as Ariel's, but when he turned back to her, his look was determined.

"I love you," he told her, placing both hands on the side of her face as he brushed the tears from her eyes. "I would have followed you beyond the sea and into the depths. Don't ever leave me again."

She nodded, head bobbing in the comically sweet Ariel way of hers as he lowered his lips to hers.

A flash of blinding white light, sparkling off the water into a million dazzling stars burst from their entwined arms. Lacey shielded her eyes, blinking dizzily as the light faded away to reveal the couple still wrapped in a kiss.

"Ariel," Lacey gasped. "You're-"

"Still a mermaid," came a new voice from Lacey's shoulder.

Beside her, hovering in mid-air was a tiny little fairy, dressed all in blue.

"Blue Fairy!" Pinocchio cried out in childish delight. "I've missed you!"

"Hello, Pinocchio," the fairy said warmly. "I'm very glad to see you." Her eyes fell on Jiminy, standing just behind him, and she smiled at him as well. "And Jiminy, my friend, it has been much too long."

The men were baking away in reverence; a few even had even sunk to their knees in the wet sand. Lacey stood at odds, blinking in the dawn sunlight as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

"You're Gepetto's Blue Fairy?" she asked incredulously.

"I am," the little woman responded grandly. "And I know who you are, and who you say you are, Princess Belle."

Swallowing hard, Lacey tugged her coat tighter around her. The fairy shook herself slightly, small sparkles falling off her in waves at the motion. "Allow me, my dear."

With a warm burst of magic, unlike the dark thick smoke and thunder that the Imp's felt like, Lacey looked down to find herself dressed in a simple day gown of white cream. Turning to look at the back of the gown, she noticed Ariel now wore a purple seashell bikini top contraption, her pale smooth skin on full display.

"I hope you don't mind, Ariel," the Blue Fairy twinkled. "But I thought perhaps you might be more comfortable."

"Thank you," Ariel said, before her hands flew to her throat. "My voice! Eric, I can speak!"

The Prince laughed, nuzzling her neck as she started to laugh and sing, wordless melodies that rang over the beach, joy and relief infecting even the most superstitious of men surrounding them.

"Of course, you can," the Blue Fairy chimed in. "True Love has broken the spell of silence."

"Oh, Eric," Ariel cried. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you!"

"And I you," he told her, grabbing her hands and bringing them to his lips. "Marry me. Make me the happiest man alive and be my wife."

"Yes," Ariel murmured, eyes shining like emeralds. "A thousand times yes."

"But Prince Eric," Gil said, coughing slightly as he looked down at Ariel's green tail, half in the surf. "She's-"

"Royal blood," Lacey finished saucily. "Princess Ariel of the Seven Seas."

"Belle," Ariel laughed. "There are thirteen seas!"

"Right," Lacey murmured. "I knew that."

Pinocchio came up besides her, looking up at the Blue Fair seriously. "Yes, Pinocchio?" the Blue Fairy asked, dipping down to be closer to his upturned face.

"Where's Papa?" The boy asked, and the men grew quiet as they realized loss was still among them. "I want my Papa."

"Pinocchio," the fairy sighed, sadness coloring her tone. "I'm so sorry, my child. Your father has gone to be with your mother."

"But," the puppet's voice quivered. "But what about me?"

Jiminy's hand came to rest on his shoulder, tightening on the boy's wooden arm as he bent down next to him. "I'll take care of you," he told him. His face was glistening with sweat, pinking under the sun but it glowed with determination. "I promise."

"And so you shall," the Blue Fairy decreed. "For you are no longer one of the Enchanted, Jiminy Hopper. With this selfless act of unconditional love, you are freed from your curse."

Faint white light, almost silver in the light glowed faintly around the figure of Jiminy before it faded away. Pinocchio smiled up at his friend, fingers reaching up to him. With a laugh, both stunned and moved, Jiminy swung up the child, holding him in his arms as he gazed in wonder down at the tiny, upturned face.

"What do you say Pinocchio? Would you like that?"

The boy nodded. "Papa would want that," he said seriously. "And I want him to be happy when we see him again."

Having lost her sleeves to wipe away the moisture in her eyes, Lacey turned back to the Blue Fairy with a thickness in her voice. "You couldn't save him?"

"He was at peace," the Blue Fairy told her kindly. "He died in the arms of the sea, on a quest to save his son. It was what he would have wanted."

"He would have wanted to be with his son," Lacey said stridently, her voice rising. "What the hell is the matter with you people?"

"You do not know our ways," the fairy warned her, zooming up closer to her. "Perhaps you should not judge, Lacey of the Land of Believers."

She stilled, staring down the pipsqueak before she looked back at Ariel. "Couldn't you enchant Ariel?"

"It doesn't work like that," the Fairy told her. "I will perform the same spell as Nix, but the end would be the same. She is a mermaid and he is a human. Nights, she can walk at his side but the days she will be who she is truly."

Nodding, Lacey gazed over her shoulder where Eric and Ariel were giggling at something, fingers entwined in the sand.

"And what price do you ask?"

"Oh, Lacey," the Blue Fairy murmured sadly "He has taught you nothing of the ways of magic." With a wave of her wand, small and slight in her grip, the Blue Fairy sent a wave of magic cascading towards the young couple. It settled into Ariel's skin, glistening and glowing like candle light before it faded away. "As long as the love they bear each other is true," the Blue Fairy told them all. "Princess Ariel will walk among you under the night sky."

Cheers rang up at this as Eric captured Ariel's lips in a kiss, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her upwards until she was holding her arms up on his shoulders, laughing as he twirled her around. Her tail raised high as she could, sparking in the rays of the sun.

Lacey crossed her arms, gazing at the blissful young pair lost in each other. Lacey wondered if they knew that two good men had died tonight in the name of their love. That a young boy had lost his father, and a cricket had lost a friend. Had anyone else died for their transgressions, Lacey wondered, rubbing her arms as the breeze from the sea drifted to the shore.

And yet, as tears began to pool in her eyes, she was surprised. Surprised that she cared so much about people she had known so little. She was so used to keeping people at an arm's length, and yet…

Desperate to elude the guilt, Lacey stepped forward to join Ariel and Eric. Perhaps their blissful happiness would rub off on her. As she went to meet them , the fairy flew before her, effectively cutting her off. "We do not have long," the fairy told her cryptically.

"What do you-"

"He is not what he seems," the Blue Fairy said quickly. "You must remember that, Lacey. He is not what he seems-"

Before she could respond to this, maroon smoke began to materialize. It rose up from her feet, swirling faster and faster as it crowded out the beach and the sounds of joy and laughter. The last thing she saw as the Blue Fairy's face, worried and pinched as she tried to say something but it was lost in the maelstrom of the magic.

When it cleared, she was back in her room at the Dark Castle.

"Wait," Lacey sputtered, stepping forward as she reached for people who were no longer there. Her breathing became faster and faster as it dawned on her. "No! I didn't-" She stopped, letting her voice trail off as she looked down at her feet, still bare and covered in sand. "I didn't get to say goodbye…"

AN: Thanks for Ramoth as always for being a grand beta!

And with that, comes to a close, the first adventure of Lacey French in Fae.

I hope you have all come to enjoy getting to know Gepetto, Pinoc, Jiminy, Duke Sebastian, Ariel, Eric and of course Ursula. I throughly enjoyed writing them and I'm going to be honest, having Lacey leave Ariel against her will broke my heart.

But we are also back at the Dark Castle after a few days of Lacey being out without the Imp, and let's be honest, she has some things she wants to say to him.


	18. Chapter 18

Lacey's footsteps did not echo in the stone halls of the Dark Castle. Barefoot with sand still stubbornly sticking to her feet, she found herself before the door to her chambers. One hand, tanned from her recent days in the warm sun of Eric's kingdom, reached out to twist the knob. She stilled when she realized it was trembling.

It couldn't be later than noon, but Lacey was exhausted. She had spent her entire morning roaming the hallways, searching for the Imp to demand he return her back to Eric's castle.

"I'll be perfectly safe there," she had practiced to her reflection in a knight's shining armor. "Eric and Ariel will keep me for the year, and then you can return me back home. You get what you want, I get what I want, and Emma doesn't have to know."

Despite her best efforts, she had no luck locating the impossible beast. As her jaw had cracked under the increasingly frequent yawns, she had admitted defeat and headed to her quarters. Whether or not they were still there was the question.

Growing annoyed at herself, she turned the knob with a vicious twist of her wrist. Pushing it open and striding forward with no further hesitation, she found her room looked the same as it had when she had departed.

Padding across the gold and rose-flecked woven rug that covered the cold stone floor, Lacey pushed off her borrowed threads that smelled of the sea. They slumped to the floor as she stepped out of them, kicking them away from her. The blankets on the bed had been turned down, by the castle or by her hand before she left, Lacey couldn't remember.

Crawling in it, she laid upon her back, naked and with sea salt still clinging to her body. As heavy as her eyes were, she didn't let herself close them. She hadn't dreamed while in Eric's kingdom. Her days had been filled with mermaids in bathtubs and walks along the piers. Her nights had been full of dancing, making love to a mysterious man and risking the lives of everyone around her. When she had slept, it had been deep, the slumber of the exhausted.

Yet here in the Dark Castle, who knew how far away from the little mermaid and her prince, the little wooden boy and the sea that had claimed his father, Lacey didn't dare close her eyes.

Five days, she counted out in her head. Five days she had been gone from this place. Now she was back, and nothing here had changed.

The bookshelves were still tall and straight; the window was still uncovered, golden light streaming in through the thick panes of glass. It was also, Lacey realized, dead quiet as only the Dark Castle could be. At Eric's, she had heard the waves below, the sound of seagulls crying out as they floated by and the ever present noise of people in the hallways. Here, it was eerily still and silent, as if she was the only living thing for miles.

Lacey turned her head back to the canopy of her four-poster bed, tracing the lines of fabric as she tried to forget she was responsible for the deaths of at least three men and perhaps even more.

When she finally succumbed to sleep, the nightmares returned.

xx

Having grown accustomed to being cared for by living breathing people, it took Lacey time to readjust to the castle's magical ways. When she finished washing, she found her borrowed clothes had disappeared from the floor. Her only option was to go wandering nude or to allow the wardrobe its way. A simple dress of mint green and darker forest green panels was her only option when she opened the doors, leaving her at the mercy of the castle when it came to the built in corset.

After that, the kitchen had been more than happy to provide her with her preferred tea and cake early evening snack. Lacey had taken the plate back to her room, sitting on her window seat, legs dangling as she watched the moons rise over the land. She could see mountains in the distance and wondered if that was where the Gate back to her world was or if those were just another mountain range.

Without her noticing, the castle disposed of her empty cup and plates, providing instead a book at her side as if to try and persuade her that it was in fact preferable to the sweet faced Charlotte and bold Priscilla. At the memory of the two maids who she had left scared and alone in the storm, Lacey pushed the book off the seat. She took pleasure in the dull thud as it hit the floor. However, when she turned back to the window, she felt the magic return the book to her side, gently nudging her as if to admonish her for the fit of temper.

"Go bother your master," Lacey told it darkly. "While you're at it, tell him I want to speak to him when he turns up from wherever he's hiding."

The castle did not respond, but Lacey picked up the book anyway. It was a biography of a pirate king, full of grammar misusage and spelling mistakes. Still, it was vastly more interesting than the moons and far less painful than her memories.

xx

The return of the Imp went unnoticed by Lacey.

Having been staying to her rooms and letting the castle care for her in its own strange way, she did not notice any difference until a few nights after her own return.

Stretching her legs, Lacey explored the third floor of the castle, peering into nooks and crannies, which were perfectly dusted except when it suited the castle. She unearthed one skeleton with a spider living its eye, what appeared to be a dragon egg shell left in the embers of a fireplace, and a small stool, child-sized with a fingerprint visible in the dust.

Just as she began to grow bored, she heard the unmistakable sound of someone climbing the stairs on the other side of the wall. Pressing her ear against the solid stonewall, she followed the sound as best she could until her ear was pressed against a fabric tapestry of some bloody ogre battle.

Stepping back, she assessed it. As the footsteps grew fainter, Lacey pushed her hand against the ancient fabric, smirking to herself when it did not hit a wall. "Hidden passageways? " Lacey asked the castle with a shake of her head. "Not terribly original."

She followed the winding stairs upwards; the earlier footsteps were now silent as she crept quietly up the stone passage. Her breath grew slightly ragged at the steepness of the stairs and she wondered idly why the Imp would even bother climbing these if he could just magic himself wherever he pleased.

And if the Imp hadn't been who she heard, was it one of his old students?

"Come, come," came her answer from just out of sight at the top of the stairs. "I haven't all day for you to lurk in the shadows."

"Oh. It's just you," Lacey groaned as she finished the climb.

"You were expecting someone else?" he teased, bowing low as his hands swung out beside him.

Blowing air out of her nose at him, Lacey looked around the room in bored curiosity. The circular room had high ceilings, indicating it was likely in the top of one of the towers. She could see wooden rafters high above them, old tatters of fabric swaying in the wind from a crack in the stones.

"Where are we?" Lacey asked him, turning slowly as she gazed upwards. At the sound of his high-pitched giggle, she glanced back down to find him where she had left him but now holding a long, pointed stick.

"The north tower," he told her with another horrible giggle. "Can't you tell?"

She shrugged, meandering over to the shuttered window. She couldn't see but she knew the twin moons were out. One had waxed to three quarters and the other waned to a crescent sliver in the sky. "Do you have a north star here too?"

"Obviously," he retorted, twisting a hand at her in annoyance. The one holding the stick gestured to the window, which suddenly blew open, shutters banging against the stone tower. Up in the very center of the heavens, a blue dot winked down at them from its spot in the heavens. "All the lands share the Polaris."

"Obviously," Lacey shot back under her breath. She crossed her arms as the warm summer breeze lifted her hair about her shoulders. The land as far as she could see was wild and free, no towns or cities as far as the horizon. It made her more lonesome, yearning for the sounds of people and life. The utter, still silence of the Dark Castle pushed down on her as Lacey struggled to find the words that she had been practicing in her head the last few days.

"Look," she finally said, turning around to face the Imp. He had migrated over to a bookshelf, tapping the stick against one palm as he surveyed the various tomes. He ignored her, scrunching his nose as he peered at the names printed along the spines. "I was wondering-"

"How difficult is it to find _Lacewings_?" he was muttering under his breath, leaning closer to the books.

Lacey realized he was not going to listen while distracted. She marched over to stand beside him, trying again. "As I was saying-"

He didn't look over at her, still peering near-sighted at the books. Lacey took a moment, glanced at the few rows to her left and right and then plucked the book labeled _202 Uses of Lacewings_. She handed it over to her confused guardian, smiling as she did so.

"Now, about the rest of my time here," she said brightly. "Don't you think it would be better for everyone if I stayed in the Seventh Kingdom?"

He cocked his head at her, opened his mouth and then spun on his heel. He walked back towards a large oaken table in the center of the room.

Lacey let her head fall back as she choked back an agonizing groan. "Come on," she said, following after him. "Doesn't it make sense?"

"Mm," he was murmuring to himself. "Can't remember if I have any shredded boomslang skin left…fluxweed picked on a full moon… plenty of leeches left."

"Gross," Lacey recoiled from the table as the various ingredients appeared before him as he bid them.

"Ah, yes, knotgrass and powdered bicorn horn…"

"Are you even listening to me?" Lacey demanded, crossing her arms peevishly.

"Child's play," he said happily, looking up at her with a black stained smile. "But for the last bit!"

"What?" she asked, instantly upset with herself as his eyes grew brighter and his smile grew larger.

"Why, the transformation potion!" He cackled, slapping the book shut. "I just need the skin, nail, or hair of a blind witch!"

Lacey stared at him. For a moment. "So, about staying with Ariel," she began again, only to be cut off by the slamming of his hand against the table.

"That will take some work," he said to himself, turning and toying with some of the recently appeared ingredients. "But no matter, I have just the trick for it."

"Look Imp- or Nix…or whatever your name is," Lacey said forcefully, moving around so she was directly across the table from him. "I want to go back."

He considered her request, moving his head from one side to the other as his eyes danced around the ceiling before they dropped back down to hers with a wicked smile.

"No!" He giggled madly at his little quip, wagging his shoulders at her before dropping them back down.

"Why not!" Lacey demanded, her own hands coming down to rest on the table. "Give me one reason-"

"One?" He asked her laughingly as he lifted a single brow at her. "How about three?"

Before she could respond, he lifted one long, clawed finger. "First, you made the deal to returning to the prince's castle accompanied by your fish friend, you remember, don't you?"

"But I-"

"Secondly," he continued as if she had not spoken. "You were responsible for the deaths of a total of fourteen people in your little adventure."

She tried not to stagger, she really did. But her hand reached out to grasp the table and she felt her knees wobble beneath her. Lacey blinked back the heat that was suddenly pooling behind her eyes, trying not to think of the dead. But like Graham, they seemed to insist she remember them.

"Did you ever pause to think perhaps they don't want you back? You did cause quite a bit of mischief, dearie."

Gepetto's kind eyes flashed before her, the way he took her hand to assure her it would be okay. Dylan's mouth moving over hers, his fingers dipping under her skirts as she found release in the gardens. And the Duke, his dry voice and knowing smile as he leaned down to whisper in her ear on the ballroom terrace. And those were just the faces she had known. Were Charlotte and Priscilla safe? Had Grimsby faced punishment before Eric could return to the castle?

The Imp continued on, ignorant or unheeding of her struggle to stay composed.

"Last but not least! There's the little matter of the magical assistance in slaying the Sea Witch." He tapped his three fingers against his chin, musing, "Now, it seems to me that you are very much in debt. Going around demanding further favors seems a bit presumptuous."

Lacey shook her head, trying to get out the ghosts. It was hopeless though; they seemed as much a part of her now as her own voice. "Fine," she muttered. "You win."

"Oh, goodie," he deadpanned. "Now, I have some business to attend to. Off you go."

He returned his attention to the task before him, effectively dismissing her. For a moment, she remained, trying to find the words to argue with him but none came to her.

Instead, Lacey found herself shuffling from the room. She emerged back into the room with the tapestry, as confused and lost as she had been the first few nights in this horrible place.

xx

The castle seemed as fed up with the Imp as Lacey was.

Walking along the kitchen hallway, she heard muttered curses, the sound of pots and pans falling and then a distinct crashing noise. Curious, she rounded the corner to find the Imp glowering at a mountain of dirty pots and pans, which had obviously just avalanched to his feet.

"Everything okay in here?" Lacey asked innocently, brushing past the mess to open the ice chest where a perfectly chilled glass of milk and a peach were waiting for her. Using her hip to shut the door, she took her snack over to the table where she pulled up a chair.

The Imp stared at her in annoyance, either at being caught yelling at inanimate objects or the castle's catering to her whims, Lacey couldn't quite tell.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sliding up next to the table.

"Eating," Lacey said succinctly, holding up the half-eaten peach to his view. "That's still allowed isn't it?"

"You've grown rather bold from your little adventure," he snipped at her. "I don't like it."

"Tough," Lacey said under her breath as her teeth dug into the ripe flesh of the peach. Juice began to drip down her wrist and she lifted her hand to lick at the sticky juices before it reached her cuff. When she glanced back up at him, he was gone.

The pots and pans remained.

xx

Little over a week after her return, Lacey weighed her options. She owed two favors to the Imp, and instead of waiting for him to ask for the favors, she figured perhaps she could be proactive.

This led her to standing in front of his wheel, arms behind her back as she waited for him to look up from his spinning. As he continued to push the wheel, straw threads pooling on the floor into long stands of gold, she finally spoke.

"Why do you do that?" she asked, nudging at the massive golden pile.

"To forget," he told her, his voice pitched low as if he was somewhere far away.

"Forget what?" Lacey replied, sitting down beside his pile so she could run her fingers through it. He did not look up from his spinning, but she knew his eyes followed her down.

"What do you want?" he demanded, sidestepping the question entirely. "If it has anything to do with your little plan-"

"About the favors I owe," Lacey began. "I'd like to clean my slate."

He stilled for a moment, obviously confused before he began again. The wheel creaked back to life, protesting at first before falling back into its smooth rhythm. Encouraged by this, Lacey began to speak in earnest. "I figure you have something I can help with, something maybe like I did with Ariel? I'm guessing most people are hesitant to do business with Nix."

He was watching her now, golden eyes narrowed as he listened closely.

"But I figure, a mere mortal like me?" Lacey was idly running golden threads through her fingers, finding her hands remembered games from her childhood as they did cat in the cradle, the Eiffel tower and other yarn tricks. "Who would bat an eye owing a favor to someone like me?"

"And how," he asked her, drawing out the words. "Do you think this will repay your debt?"

"Easy," Lacey said, smiling up at him. "I'll make deals that you would otherwise not have made."

He snickered at that, shaking his head as he returned to his wheel.

"I have no need in deals that I have not already foreseen," he told her. Lacey opened her mouth to argue but closed it when she realized he was again far away from her, lost in the rotating of the wheel.

"Fine," she said to herself as she clambered to her feet. " Be that way."

xx

When the Imp joined her for tea one evening, Lacey almost spilled hers down her front. Scrambling from her slouched position, she eyed him warily as he settled himself into the chair at the head of the table adjacent to hers.

"May I?" he asked, lifting the teapot over her half-filled cup. She nodded hesitantly, watching as he poured hers adroitly before moving to the cup that had appeared in front of him.

"That's the damaged one," Lacey pointed out without thinking.

"Nonsense," he waved his hand as he put down the teapot. "It's just chipped."

She nodded, watching as he picked up the cup without milk or sugar and took a long sip from the rim. When he placed it back in its saucer with a loud clink, she looked back up to find him grinning at her.

"What?" she demanded, reaching out for the sugar dish to sweeten her beverage.

"I believe you owe me a favor?" he asked innocently, steepling his hands in front of him.

"You know perfectly well-" Lacey started, brandishing a tea spoon at him before she stilled.

This wasn't going to get her anywhere, she realized. Arguing and fighting would just make him return in kind. She was growing rather tired of their little games anyways. Time to try a different tactic. Lacey exhaled slowly. Sitting back, she lowered the spoon down gently, before turning back to him with a soft smile on her face. "I do," she agreed. "What'll it be?"

If he was at all disturbed by her abrupt change of heart, he did not show it.

"There's a tiny matter of a deal I need made in the First Kingdom," he said with a touch of theatrical weariness to his tone. "But there's also a time sensitive situation brewing just over the border in the Second Kingdom."

"And I fit in how?" Lacey asked him, raising her cup to take a small sip as she waited for his reply.

"You," he said, lifting his own cup to his mouth in imitation of her. "Will be supervising the situation in the Second Kingdom in my stead."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Can't be too hard," he said as an afterthought. "Child's play really."

"So, what will I be doing?" Lacey asked, already thinking of the mystical creatures she would probably have to deal with this time. Dragons, trolls, or ogres were all very real possibilities; she wished she had paid closer attention to the maps of the Kingdoms the other day. "Bargaining for jewels? Seducing some poor sap?"

"Nothing like that," he assured her with a devilish grin. "More like babysitting."

"Absolutely not," Lacey found herself saying, shaking her head sharply. "No, no way, I already had to take care of a sixteen year old mermaid who thought she knew best. No way in hell am I taking care of actual children!"

"Now, now," he chided her, amusement gleaming in his buggy little eyes. "I'm collecting on one of those little favors you owe me. And all you have to do is make sure this brother and sister don't get lost in the forest."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Lacey asked him in frustration. "It's not like you have GPS here."

He wrinkled his nose at the reference, but he didn't comment on it. "I've found," he said vaguely, "bread crumbs usually do the job quite nicely."

xx

Notes:

Well gang, I hope everyone enjoyed this quiet little romp back in the Dark Castle. Lacey and the Imp still getting to know each other as well as some Dark Castle shenanigans.

Over on Tumblr, I let drop a hint of Lacey's next adventure and I'll share it here too. Please don't hesistate to let me know what you thought of this chapter, Lacey and the Imp's growing rapport or if you like Lacey are missing Ariel.

Hints for Lacey's next adventure:  
A. Gingerbread  
B. Glass  
C. Gold

Oooh, what could it be?


	19. Chapter 19

Stumbling over an unearthed tree root, Lacey took a moment to mentally curse her quick temper, the Imp's humor, and the general topography of the Second Kingdom. The twin moons' light dappled through the thick foliage, but the light was so faint Lacey could barely see her own hand, much less the path.

As the night sounds of the forest hummed in the background, Lacey's steps crunched and crackled as she stepped on fallen leaves, broken twigs and god knew what else. Taking a moment to remember to breath, she stopped just long enough to hear a howl, off in the distance and she quickly began to move again.

"No creature in the forest will harm you as long as you have this," the Imp had assured her, handing over a small piece of bone. Instinctively, out here in the darkness, Lacey's hand went to the leather chord around her neck that held the small piece nestled under her dress. "Careful though," he had sniggered, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Doesn't work too well against two legged variety."

Another owl hooted overhead as she passed beneath another tree. "Yeah, yeah," Lacey replied grumpily as she moved forward. There was but one or two hours left before dawn. If the Imp was to be believed, that meant she had only until then to reach the woodcutter's cottage.

"Simple sort," the Imp had explained to her a few nights ago. "Has a dead wife, two mouths to feed and no money. All you have to do is get his little brats to show you where the Blind Witch lives, shouldn't be too hard. Her abode is rather hard to miss…"

Honestly, if she had just kept her temper, she wouldn't be traipsing about in the wood. But no, he had made some damn comment about avoiding a death toll on this trip and she hadn't been able to keep her mouth shut.

It was, as she had discovered quickly, a bad idea to tell the magical being protecting you to go fuck himself. Before she could blink, he had snapped those two damned fingers under her nose and off she had whirled. Arriving in the dead of night, in the middle of a forest, with nothing but a talisman and general sense of direction.

Coming to a clearing, Lacey glanced around warily. The sound of a babbling brook nearby gave her pause, remembering the Imp's quip about if she hit the stream she had gone too far. The sky above was mercifully starting to lighten and Lacey allowed herself to reach out to touch the nearest tree, feeling the moss under hand.

Free from the thick branches of the forest, the sky's light revealed a small house just on the other edge of the glen. It looked like an old mill, but the wheel was missing half of its spokes and was still and silent in the night air.

Settling down on a nearby patch of leaves, Lacey made herself comfortable. She had slept little since awakening in the early evening and she knew if the Imp was to be believed, she would have very little rest today. The house in the glen seemed welcoming enough, gabled roofs with thatching, multiple chimneys sticking out as if afterthoughts and a soft, faded blue paint adorned the bricks. There were quite a few windows, although all of them were shuttered currently. They had charming white and red pattered blocks around each of them, muted but clean. The front door wasn't visible, but Lacey noticed a trail from the stream led upwards and just out of sight so she figured it must be just around the corner.

A nearby rustle in the brush made Lacey twist her head. Silence followed this small interruption but Lacey clutched for the talisman, taking it out of her neckline to glance at it. A small prong from a deer's antlers, it had some carvings along one side and the other had a droplet of gold pressed to it. She let her fingers wrap around it as the cool night air reminded her it was almost autumn here.

Back home it would be late March, still winter in the North East. The Second Kingdom, which she knew little about other than the large forest that took up half of it, seemed to be south of the Dark Castle. Even so, it was cooler out here in the woods than it had been in her tower.

Luckily, she was dressed for it. Her costume this time was much more practical. A peasant girl to fit in with the family, she was now playing a wholly different role than Princess Belle. Reaching up to fiddle with the odd bonnet stuck firmly to her head, Lacey wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to Emma's tiara. It probably laid deep at the bottom of the sea, lost forever unless some mermaid stumbled upon it.

She knew Emma wouldn't begrudge her for losing it while fighting for her life but still…the weight and warmth of the golden trinket had been comforting in the oddness of this new world. Even now, sitting on a pile of freshly fallen leaves, Lacey felt oddly incomplete without it.

It had reminded her of those late nights at the sheriff's office with Emma and Graham. Smells of coffee and printer toner and that old heater in the back that smelled like a bonfire when it got too hot… a link between worlds. She wondered, not for the first time since her arrival, about what Emma was doing back in Storybrooke. How she had told the town of Graham's death and Belle's disappearance. Did they know where she was? Did they know where Emma was from? Personally, Lacey thought so. Something about the way they had never warmed to Emma and the way they had been cordial but unwelcoming at first, only counting her as a member of the town on the very night she had disappeared into the woods.

Still, Lacey told herself roughly, ignoring the odd catch in her throat, it wasn't as if she could have worn the tiara for this trip. Dressed demurely in a dark green linen and wool dress, Lacey looked every inch a peasant girl. Her bound hair, so different from the court life where it had been praised and admired along Ariel's flaming crown, was now completely covered by a bonnet, a few curls escaping flirtatiously around her ears.

A shift in the wind brought the soft noises of rustling from across the glen. Lacey stood, patting her hands off at the black wool apron that hung from her striped cotton belt. Brushing the leaves off the back of the dress, she moved forward across the glen. Showtime.

"Tell them you got lost in the woods," the Imp had suggested in annoyance when she asked how she was to explain her presence so early in the morning. "Tell them whatever you like, as long as you manage to get the children's trust!"

Easier said than done, but as she pulled up the odd puffy quarter sleeves of her dress, Lacey squared her shoulders, noticing the scoop neck did show off her cleavage to a decent advantage. Perhaps that would be helpful when she met the father. Widowers as a rule tended to be either extremely susceptible or impossibly frigid.

Lacey barely had made it to the pathway from the stream, when a young boy came around the corner in the gloom just before dawn. He didn't notice her at once, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he hiked up his striped breeches, way too short for him, as he went barefoot through the grass.

Lacey stilled, waiting for him to notice her, but he continued on his way, a too large pale blue waistcoat nearly falling off him. It wasn't until a window flapped open and a voice called down in warning, "Hansel!" that the boy realized he was not alone outside.

"Hello," Lacey said, twisting her fingers in her apron.

"Who are you?" The man from the window demanded. Lacey kept her eyes on him, watching as the boy backed away slightly towards the safety of the house. The man in the window was in shadows but Lacey could make out dark curls in the early traces of dawn's light.

"My name is Belle," Lacey lied smoothly, tilting her head up at him sweetly. She tried to remember the way Ariel had looked at the men of the court, all innocence and naiveté. "I'm sorry to bother you so early." Here she paused, looking back down at her skirt as if confused to how she had gotten here. "I'm trying to find my way back home and-"

"Hansel," interrupted the voice. "Get back inside and wake your sister."

The boy hurried to obey, dropping the water bucket he had been carrying and rushing back around the corner. Lacey stayed still, regarding the dark window politely.

"May I?" She asked, indicating the bucket. "I heard the sound of water and I'm parched-"

"Parched?" came the suspicious retort. "You aren't dressed like a lady but you speak like one."

Struggling to keep her face smooth, Lacey shrugged. "I was maid to a noble family," she fibbed. Mentally, she kicked herself for her slip up. She had barely been able to keep up her Princess act at court; out here in the country, she could barely remember to act like a peasant. "You pick up a few things."

No answer from the window, but as dawn started to break the sky with pale blues and pinks, the face of a thirty-year-old man started to appear from the shadows. He had scruff on his face, hair in disarray and a shirt thrown on as if he had been dressing when he had come to the window.

He was not handsome. His jaw was too blunt and stuck out oddly from his face. His nose was much too large for his small mouth. His eyes however, gleamed dark from his face, intelligent and shrewd.

"I didn't mean to bother you," Lacey said hoarsely. "I just wanted something to drink-"

"Father?" The man in the window turned at this, speaking to someone in hushed whispers as Lacey stood quietly below, straining to hear. "But Father, she's thirsty."

"Gretel, what have I told you about strangers in the woods?"

"She hardly looks dangerous. Besides, she looks exhausted."

He spared a glance back down at Lacey who busied herself looking forlornly at the streaming water beside her. As the conversation went on in muted tones, she began to feel the discomfort of a scratchy throat.

He turned back to her abruptly and Lacey stood up straight, waiting for the verdict. "Bring a bucket inside," he decided before the shutters snapped close behind him. Thrilled at her little victory, Lacey grasped for the bucket, trudging back down the path to where the water met the shoreline. Wading in, she quickly realized this was more punishment than reward. After a moment, the cold water had frozen her hands and soaked her hem. When she stood, she clutched a nearly full bucket of water.

The walk back up to the house was treacherous, her muddy shoes slipping in the dirt. At one point, she lost her balance and a decent amount of water slopped over the side to soak her entire apron. "Shit, shit, shit," Lacey grumbled under her breath as she heaved the water pail up the hill. Despite the water sloshing and spilling out as she stumbled up the path, the pail grew increasingly heavier as her arms protested the weight.

As she turned the corner, she found Hansel waiting by the door for her. He was dark like his father, brown eyes large in his rounded face that was on the cusp of adolescence. Lacey guessed his age to be about twelve as he held the door open for her.

"Thank you," she said, breathing a slight sigh of relief. Twelve was not as bad as the young Pinocchio and she let herself relax slightly. From upstairs came the sound of booted footsteps and then the man of the house appeared, carrying a large ax in one hand.

Taken aback, Lacey couldn't help herself from blurting out, "What, you sleep with your ax?"

Dark eyes met her blue ones in a glower before the tension was broken as the man wielding the weapon threw his head back in laughter. Surprised at this sudden change of heart, Lacey looked down at Hansel in question. The boy had already taken the pail from her sore hand, pouring it out without spilling a drop into cups on a table. He didn't seem to find it odd that his father had an ax this early in the morning.

"In the Infinite Forest, yes, every man should sleep with an ax under his pillow, especially when one is a woodcutter. You've met my son, Hansel. He's cooked some sausages. Come, sit and eat with us."

Lacey sat down at the table, watching as the boy hurried over to a fireplace where a black pan was spitting and hissing in the flames. He adroitly grabbed it from the fire with a poker, before spearing five sizzling sausages and dropping them neatly in a bowl.

Watching this, Lacey did not realize someone else had joined them until she felt someone staring at her. Turning to her right, she found in the shadows by the hall a young girl stood.

She shared the dusky coloring of her father and brother but her hair was jet black as opposed to brown, done in two long plaits on either side of her face. She looked about the same age as her brother and Lacey wondered if they were twins.

"Hello," Lacey said with a smile. The father looked over his shoulder to see his daughter as Hansel hurried back to the table.

"Stop staring, Gretel," Hansel admonished his sister. "You're the one who wanted to invite her inside."

The girl smiled gently at Lacey, but did not move. "You're very pretty," the girl said candidly. "Are you married?"

Her father, having stuffed a sausage in his mouth, choked at this. Lacey, quick on the draw, smiled broadly at the young girl. Hansel had stilled, shooting her a suspicious look under his mop of hair. "No," Lacey said, spearing one of the sausages before the father ate them all. "And I don't plan to be."

"Why not?" Gretel frowned. "You're too old to be unwed."

"That's enough Gretel," her father interrupted, indicating for her to join them at the table. Turning back to Lacey, he grimaced. "I'm sorry for the rude welcome. We don't get many strangers out here."

"Wonder why," Lacey replied under her breath as Gretel joined them. Hansel at least had returned to eating, spooning what looked to be honey on his porridge. Lacey hid a yawn behind her hand as she reached for the spoon.

"You said you were lost?" The children's father asked, trying to be a better host.

"How did you manage to get lost in the Infinite Forest?"

The name gave her some clue that this place was not where most unwed servant girls wound up so Lacey took her time chewing her food, keeping her eyes down as she tried to come up with a decent cover story. "Well," she finally decided, putting her fork down. "I worked for a family and they had a son."

The father's eyes lit up with understanding although Hansel and Gretel leaned in excitedly. "I see," the father said gruffly. "No need to explain."

"Why?" Hansel complained. "What happened?"

"Did he fall in love with you?" Gretel asked, eyes wide.

"Something like that," Lacey said, enjoying the way their father was nonverbally trying to silence her with his wide eyes and headshakes. "But I didn't return his… feelings." Gretel looked disappointed, going back to her porridge. Lacey noticed she didn't touch the sausages. "You see, his mother wanted him to marry a noble girl down the street," Lacey continued, pouring some honey on her porridge. "But he refused. She thought perhaps if I was gone-"

"She took you to the woods to die!" Hansel cried out excitedly, through a mouthful of sausage. Gretel looked horrified and their father shook his head.

"This is why I tell you two to keep your heads down," he said resignedly. "Belle, you are welcome to stay here as long as you need. I go to the Sun Castle tomorrow for the monthly market. I'll take you with me and see if we can't find you a new family."

Pretending to be overwhelmed by this generosity, Lacey raised her hands to cover her face. Internally, she tried to think of some reason to stay. After all if he was going to be away, it was a perfect opportunity for the children to show her the Blind Witch's cottage.

"Father," Gretel cleared her throat. Lacey shot a look at her from beneath her fingers, noticing the way the young girl smiled sadly as she nudged her meat around her plate. "Couldn't Belle stay with us?"

"Gretel," her father sighed heavily. "We've talked about this…"

"Yeah, hush up, Gretel!" Hansel sniped from his seat. "We don't need a mother!"

"Hansel!" their father roared, slapping a large beefy hand on the table. His ax, which leaned on the table, shook for a moment before crashing down to the floor. Gretel started crying, large crocodile tears, which Lacey watched with some amusement. She was vividly reminded of herself at that age. She had been an only child but her mother had passed when she was barely six. She had learned quickly that her father could not handle his only daughter's tears. She had gotten anything she wanted with a few sniffles and some fat tears.

At the table, their father sat, resigned, as Hansel shouted angrily at the two of them, and Gretel wailed as if she had lost her only friend. Finally, taking pity on the man, Lacey cleared her throat, "I'd be happy to stay with the children while you go to town, Mr. uh…"

"Holz," he supplied guiltily as his children glowered at each other from across the table. "Koby Holz."

She smiled at him comfortingly before indicating the two children. "I have some experience as a governess," Lacey said, twisting her month of babysitting in college into actual work. "And I'm afraid the Sun Castle is where the family I used to work for is vacationing for the winter. I don't think I would find any work there. More it may not be a good idea for her to know my little trip didn't work out the way she had planned it. "

Hansel shot her a dark look, while Gretel beamed at her. Their father looked nervously at her. He had yet to look down her dress, and seemed more worried about his children than his personal appearance. Lacey pinned him as a pining widower, immune to the charms of the flesh. "I was in love once too," she said quietly. "I don't intend anything beyond returning the kindness you've shown me."

A solemn nod from the head of the table confirmed her thoughts. "Then, I would be grateful if you stayed and watched my children in my absence. Their mother passed a few years ago and we've been making it by on savings but-" He indicated the meager servings on the table. "I need to go sell wood in the market this year or I'm afraid we won't last the winter."

By the time breakfast was over, Hansel had taken their plates out to the river to wash and Gretel had disappeared with him. Holz watched them from the window as they went, and Lacey thought he had forgotten about her when he spoke. "I'm sorry about Gretel. She's friends with the farmer's daughter. The girl just turned fifteen and she's starting to blossom. The girl's mother keeps putting ideas in Gretel's head about how nice it would be to have a mother." He turned with a rueful smile to her. "Not many eligible men in the Forest, you see."

Lacey, trying not to grimace at the idea of the man before her in his mid-thirties with a girl of barely fifteen, could see why Gretel had been so forward. It would be odd to go from being friends to calling someone nearly your own age mother. A stranger who magically appeared in a clearing one morning… Yes, even to Lacey it did seem rather like something a ten year old girl would find romantic. She smiled kindly at Holz, "It must have been very hard, losing your wife with two young children. Was it…?"

He nodded at her unspoken question. "Stillbirth," he said quietly.

Lacey did not respond to this, her own stomach tightening sickeningly; a land with magic indeed.

Without another word, the widower grabbed his ax and headed for the door. "I'll be out today stacking the rest of the wood on the wagon. Tomorrow, I'll leave for the market." Lacey nodded as he left her alone in the house, the sounds of the brook and children's raised voices keeping her company.

Later that evening, Holz returned, sweaty and tired just as the sun started to dip below the trees. Lacey herself was barely keeping her eyes open. Hansel and Gretel had wasted no time in using her newness as a distraction from their chores, peppering her with a million questions. When she had realized this, she had ordered them to get their tasks done, only to be roped into helping them.

Her hands were greasy with soap, pruned from the cold water and cracked from the sheer amount of washing it took to clean the clothes of three people, mostly all under garments. Hansel, she discovered, was actually fourteen, but small for his age.

Lacey promised him that any day he would shoot upwards like a tree and his voice would deepen and he would sprout hair on his chest and chin. Gretel, ten and a half, had been less than impressed by this. Lacey had told her that in another few years, she too would shoot up like a beanstalk, filling out with curves and flowering into a young woman. Gretel's response had been, "We'll see about that."

Despite the hard work and the prattle of the kids, Lacey had actually enjoyed her day in the Glen Cottage. Gretel had quickly given up her matchmaking when Lacey had dropped a few tragic hints about her lost love and Hansel seemed satisfied that she didn't intend to come in and take his father or his freedom.

Throughout the day, Lacey had referenced magic, hoping the children would be eager to share their knowledge about the apparently famous Blind Witch. But neither offered any information. Hansel would grow quiet and sullen at the mention of magic and Gretel seemed to have little interest in it. It was shaping up to be difficult to get their compliance.

They settled down to dinner once they had all washed up in the brook. This time Gretel had been the cook, which was reflected in the copious roasted greens filling the table. Only one small chicken had been roasted to split between the four of them. They all eyed it nervously, clearly wondering how they would split it.

Gretel looked miserable. That afternoon when faced with what to eat, the girl's eyes had been full of tears when she had gone towards the chicken coop at the back of the house. Hansel had followed his sister grimly. When the death squawk came, Gretel had run back out from around the house into Lacey's arms. Hansel had followed afterwards, a dead chicken hanging loosely from his grip. Lacey was surprised she even had an appetite after that sight.

Holz sighed before scolding, "Gretel, what did I say about the supper meal?"

Gretel kept her eyes downcast as she avoided her father's gaze. Hansel chimed in helpfully, "You know how much she hates killing things, Father."

He fell silent when his father turned his disappointed face to him. "Hans," he started grimly.

Lacey, recognizing this was an old argument between the trio, interrupted. "Gretel was very brave killing that poor thing," Lacey said with a shudder. "I told her I couldn't bear to watch her kill another one. I'm afraid I'm rather squeamish. City life and all that."

Trying to stifle his smile, Holz nodded thoughtfully. He was obviously not fooled by this, but was willing to let it slide tonight. "I see. So Gretel, Belle here pleaded with you to spare the other chickens?" Gretel nodded, smiling slightly as she peeked at Lacey. Hansel too seemed relieved; he reached for the biggest drumstick before anyone could stop him. "Since there isn't much to go around," her father continued fondly. "Perhaps one of you ladies wouldn't mind heating up one of the potatoes?"

Gretel looked happily at the fireplace where two potatoes were roasting in the coals and nodded in relief. "I'll eat the potatoes. Belle can have some chicken if she likes."

Lacey reached for the breast in relief. Her stomach had been rumbling for hours and there hadn't been so much as a berry to snack on. Life in the Dark Castle may have had its pitfalls but at least there was always food.

The next morning unfolded much like the one before. Holz ate breakfast with them, before he hugged his children gruffly goodbye and shook Lacey's hand with gravity. "You'll take care of them?" he asked her, looking her dead in the eye as his hand tightened on hers.

"Like they were my own," Lacey assured him as her insides squirmed. Sure, she had every intention of using his children to find the Blind Witch's house, but she didn't actually intend on bringing them inside with her. Once there, she'd send them home and never see them again. Simple.

As the wagon pulled away, teeming with wood as high as a small building, it rumbled over the smooth dirt path that served as a road for the few inhabitants of the forest. Lacey stood with her hands on the children's shoulders as they watched it disappear towards the horizon. When they could no longer see him through the trees, Lacey inquired breezily, "So, what shall we do today?"

Both children looked at her quizzically. "We have to do our chores before it gets dark," Hansel said, shooting a look at where his father had departed.

Lacey bent down so her hands were on her knees as she smiled at the two of them conspiringly. "Come on, you guys telling me you never have any fun?"

They looked at each other, wavering slightly. "Well," Gretel drew out nervously. "Sometimes I go to the farm in the valley and visit Johanna."

Lacey twisted her face in thought before shaking her head. "No, no, they might tell your father I let you out to play without doing the chores. Anything else we could do?"

"There's the waterfall," Hansel suggested. "It's two hours by trail but it's warm enough to go swimming for the day!"

Hoping to encourage him on exploring the forest, Lacey nodded excitedly. "Oh, but you know- maybe something closer?"

Both children continued to suggest things until finally Lacey sighed and decided to hell with it. "The woman I used to work for mentioned there was a witch in these woods. What about if you showed me where she lives?"

Both children immediately froze. " We can't go there!" Hansel yelped, taking a step back from Lacey towards the house.

"Belle," Gretel pulled at her hand. "Belle, no, let's go to the farm!"

"Guys," Lacey said, confused by this. The Imp had been very clear; the children would know where to go. "What's wrong?"

Gretel looked nervously at Hansel who had tears starting to track down his cheeks. "We can't go to that place in the pines," he said miserably.

"Is she really so bad?" Lacey asked, trying for a smile as she remembered the Sea Witch. Ursula had been called goddess by the people of Eric's kingdom, but the Imp had never meant for Lacey to go up against her. Surely, he wouldn't have sent her to deal with some witch she couldn't handle.

Hansel finally said, almost in a whisper so Lacey had to lean closer to hear him, "She eats children."

Lacey straightened. Gretel still clung to her hand as Lacey stared disbelievingly down the road Holz had gone towards town. Her other hand tightened into a fist in her skirt as she thought about throttling her thrice cursed protector and his damn little games.

Sending kids to show her a cottage where a child-eating witch lived, she ought to skin him alive for it. This was supposed to be an easy little favor. Go to a blind witch's house and steal a hair, easy as finding a brush while the witch woman slept. He had never even insinuated there was anything remotely dangerous about this little mission. A darker suspicion about the Imp's eating habits entered her mind but she dismissed it despite the sick feeling welling up in her stomach.

Realizing she had lost her attention, Gretel tugged at her hand imploringly. "Belle," Gretel pleaded, dark eyes glistening with trepidation. "We can't go there. Promise us we won't go there ever!"

Lacey brought the child to her skirts, where Gretel buried her fists and face as she sniffled. Hansel stood still and pale as a statue and she averted her eyes from his accusing gaze. "That's right," Lacey said thickly. "We won't go there."

She'd find it herself. Imp be damned.

* * *

_Welcome to the Second Kingdom!_

_If you are at all interested in the settings and the style of the Second Kingdom, please check out the below link. The Second Kingdom takes it's fashion inspiration from the European 1820's which you can see below. (Think Regency/Jane Austen simplicity) The Infinite Forest is inspired by where else? The Black Forest of Germany, which is absolutely stunning and I have little doubt if magic exists in this world, it lives there in the trees and waterfalls._

_Check the images out here:  post/131028503177/as-lacey-explores-the-second-kingdoms-infinite_

_I know everyone enjoyed seeing the Imp last chapter but I promise you, he'll be back before you know it. Lacey meanwhile is exploring the Infinite Forest of the Second Kingdom while he stirs up some trouble across the border in the First Kingdom._

_Next chapter, Lacey goes off to find a witch but best intentions and all that..._

_I'm incredibly lucky to have a wonderful beta, ramloth, who despite her busy schedule is always extremely wonderful in wrangling this story into cohesion._


	20. Chapter 20

It was dark when Lacey woke. Rolling over, she was careful to not disturb the other inhabitant of the straw and feather mattress. Hansel had moved to his father's room while Lacey took his usual spot in the children's room. Gretel slept peacefully, hands curled under her chin as if she was thinking even while she dozed.

Despite the small embers they had left burning, the house was freezing, fall well on its way in this world. Lacey moved slowly, but she finally was able to shimmy off the bed without waking the sleeping child. Making quick work of dressing in the darkness, she spared one last look at the girl before she headed down the stairs.

The kitchen, with its window shut was dark, save the few red embers still burning. Lacey took a candle from near the fireplace and lit it. The room illuminated to life in sparks and starts, before the wick caught and the small area around her slowly became visible. Glancing at the small candle collection, Lacey paused. She would need a few candles for the early hours but she knew how hard won the wax was and how time consuming candle making was for the small family. She worried her lip, before a small silhouette in the corner caught her eye.

Moving towards it, Lacey found a broom tucked away. It was old, with cobwebs clinging to the bristles and the wood cracked with age. Beside it, hanging on a peg was a cloak. Lacey reached out for it, feeling the heavy brocade and making out a faint floral design in the light colors. It was clearly the mother's, an obviously expensive luxury that the father had not been able to bring himself to throw away or sell.

Hesitating for a moment, she glanced back towards the stairs before she drew both the broom and the cloak from the forgotten corner. In a smooth motion, she drew the cape around her shoulders, flipping the large hood up until it framed her face perfectly. She took an apple she had helped the children pick and a small flask that she had seen earlier to fill with water for the journey. Satisfied that she had enough to make it until dawn, Lacey took her supplies to the door. Moments later, she transformed the broom into a makeshift torch before quietly closing the cottage door behind her.

Another night out wandering the woods, Lacey thought tiredly. She filled her flask in the river, barely wetting her cloak or hem of her dress. She turned at the bottom of the hill, looking up at the dark and silent house where the two children slept before she turned back to the task at hand. They were old enough to be left on their own, she told herself as she headed down the path. Perhaps after she finished her task, she might even return in time to say goodbye and return the cloak before the Imp called her back to the castle.

When the sun rose three hours later, Lacey was horribly, terribly lost. She had been following the path since she left the mill but the path had forked more than four times already and she was growing increasingly doubtful about her choices. Standing now, at a crossroads, she sighed, tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear. The forest was awake now, birds chirping in the trees with the occasional branch cracking or leaves rustling just out of sight. Lacey decided it wise to stay to the path, no matter what frightened or intrigued her in the darkness of the surrounding trees.

Ahead of her, the road split again. One path went to the right and the other to the far left. Both curved out of sight, obscuring any sight of what might lie down that way. Lacey, still a few feet away, furrowed her brow as something tugged at her memory. This split looked awfully familiar, she thought, moving slowly towards the fork. But she had been careful, there was no way she was going in a circle.

She stopped short. There, just on the right edge of the left hand fork were the remains of her makeshift broom torch. "You've got to be kidding me," Lacey groaned, turning back the way she came. As she suspected,the trail seemed to curve off around a bend, but she knew full well she had been walking straight for the past hour.

She retraced her steps to the center of the fork, sitting down in the middle of the pathway with a sigh. It was now obvious that the Infinite Forest got its name not only from its sheer size but from its magical tendencies to fuck with anyone wandering around in it. No wonder Koby had been so antagonistic when she had first appeared in his yard. It seemed the forest did its best to keep its secrets.

In her pocket, the small protection amulet was heavy and comforting. She took it out, fondling it with her fingers as she gazed first down one path and then the other. She had obviously gone down the left fork last time, ditching the broom as she went. Opting to go to the right, she stood and made her way onwards. She only hesitated long enough to rip a small patch off her apron, placing it under a large rock, peeking out ever so slightly in the brown and greens of the earth. Then, she continued forward.

"You have got to be fucking joking!" Lacey exclaimed, kicking at a large branch by the side of the pathway. On her left, she could see the small white patch of fabric from her apron, on her right, she could see the broom. The issue was, she was fairly certain, they had been on opposite sides when she had gone her way an hour ago. "Stupid goddamn forest," she muttered savagely, pushing her hood down as the warmth of the day started to grow uncomfortable.

She was at the end of her rope. Wandering on her own the past couple of hours had gotten her nowhere and possibly into an internal loop that would only end if she stepped off the path or figured out the secret to this magical mayhem.

Trying a third option, she turned around to head back the way she came, only to hear muffled echoes of someone else approaching. Heart quickening in her chest, Lacey looked to her left and right, debating on her course of action when two familiar faces rounded the corner.

"Belle!" Gretel called out in relief, hurtling forward to fling her arms around her. Hansel came up slowly behind his sister, eyes wary as he took in the cloak. His face took on a deeply betrayed look, even as Gretel lifted watery eyes to hers.

"We were so worried!"

"What are you two doing here?" Lacey asked, sinking down to her haunches so she could peer up at them. They both looked fine, faces scrubbed and gleaming from the exercise.

"I would ask you the same question," Hansel said boldly. He thrust his chin out, glaring down at her in a decent imitation of his father. "You left in the middle of the night without a word!" He didn't add, 'and you took my mother's cloak,' but he didn't need to.

Lacey sighed, letting her hands drop from Gretel as she stood back up. "I'm sorry," she said, truly meaning it. "I wasn't entirely truthful with you all."

Gretel, innocent that she was, peered up from under her lashes at her. "What do you mean?"

"She lied," Hansel snorted, crossing his arms over his skinny chest. "Didn't Father tell us? Never trust anyone you meet in the forest."

"But-" Gretel started, but she fell silent. She glanced up at Lacey before she took a few steps back to join her brother.

Lacey sighed, dusting her hands off before she unbuckled the clasp at her neck. Drawing the cloak off her, she walked over to the children and laid it in their hands. Gretel looked confused, patting the brocade absently, while Hansel gripped it for dear life.

"I didn't realize," Lacey said softly. "I thought I would be back before you woke," she lied. "There's something I need to do, but you're right. I shouldn't have borrowed it without asking."

"You're lost, aren't you?" the boy said correctly, a hint of a smug smile at his lips.

Lacey sighed, shrugging her now bare shoulders. "Seems so," she nodded. "I've been walking for hours and I feel like I'm getting nowhere…"

"Hours?" Gretel said with a confused look on her face. "Why, we're only a mile from home! We just left twenty minutes ago!"

"What?" Lacey startled, eyes widening. "You're telling me I've been walking in circles for hours?"

"Breadcrumbs," Hansel said smugly, holding up a small bag. He twisted and pointed behind him, and Lacey could see the faint trail of breadcrumbs disappearing around the bend. "You have to use something to keep your way or the forest will keep tricking you. Happens all the time."

"That would have been helpful to know," Lacey growled, wondering how much joy the Imp would have gotten from having to rescue her from the forest, not a mile from the cottage.

"What are you doing here anyways?" Hansel demanded, growing angry. "Did your employer really send you here?"

"In a matter of speaking," Lacey hedged. "Yes. But not because of any man. You see, I'm here to get a hair from the blind witch."

Both children paled, standing closer together as they clutched their mother's cloak between them. Lacey turned from the sight, feeling uneasy. "I didn't know about her… diet," she said unevenly. "I was told you children could help me find her but-"

"Course kids can find her," Hansel grumbled at her, eyes averted. "She eats kids. She makes it easy."

"That's why you got lost," Gretel added helpfully. "She doesn't want you, so she'll let the forest have you."

"Is there an option C?" Lacey asked, but the children just frowned back at her. Shaking her head, she grimaced. "Okay, no time for jokes apparently."

"We're going back," Hansel decided. Gretel looked torn but she nodded miserably, turning away with a small quiver of her shoulders.

"Good," Lacey agreed, although she was tempted to ask if they had brought any more apples or water. "I'll go with you."

"No," Hansel said fiercely, although he looked unsure how he would stop her.

"Go to the left. When you get to the next oak tree, stop and look behind it. The path goes straight on, the oak just grows in the middle of the road. Follow that and you should find the farm in the valley. They can help you get to town."

Lacey resisted the urge to smile. As mad as he was, the kid was not willing to leave her there to die, rather mature for a fourteen year old. "I can't," she said simply. "I have to get this hair."

"Why?" Gretel asked from over her brother's shoulder. Hansel grumbled something low and angry, but Gretel ignored him. "She's horrible and wicked! Who could need something from her?"

"It's for a potion," Lacey said candidly. However, she did think there were limitations on how much truth she could tell the two of them. The Seventh Kingdom and Ariel had known and lived in great fear of the Imp; she did not want to test his popularity in the Second Kingdom. "It's a transformation potion to undo a horrible curse on the man I love."

Lying was easy, Lacey had found in her line of work, as long as there was a kernel of truth to it. As far as creating lies and spinning tales in this new world, Lacey knew she still had some work to do. However, if she couldn't convince two children she was harmless and in need of help, she didn't know if she deserved to succeed.

"And that," she finished, with just the slightest waver in her voice, "is why I need the hair from the head of the blind witch."

Both children exchanged a look, fraught with meaning before Hansel sighed dramatically. Marching up to her, he held the cloak stiffly up at her, refusing to look at her. She took it, bending down to kiss his head as he grumbled and grimaced. "Thank you," she said with a smile. "Now, I know the way to the farm but how do I get to the witch's?"

"This way," Hansel sighed, moving forward.

"Whoa, hold on," Lacey said, reaching out to catch him by his suspenders. "Who said anything about you two going?"

Gretel made her way to her side, hand finding Lacey's with ease. Hansel frowned at her, "You're not coming," he told his sister. "You're going home."

"You can't find it without a kid," she shot back, tongue sticking out. "So, I'm coming."

Hansel frowned at her although Lacey and he realized his younger sister did have a point. At fourteen, he was on the cusp of adolescence if he wasn't already there. It was highly possible he was already too old to find his way to the witch's cottage. His fourteen year old pride was at war with his sense of duty, and Lacey felt bad for him.

"Look," she tried. "How about we find the witch's house? I'll wait long enough for you to get home before I do anything."

Gretel looked scared but defiant. "We aren't leaving you," she said timidly.

"You said the witch doesn't like adults," Lacey told them with a smile. "I'm an adult. She won't eat me."

"She'll turn you into a pumpkin and make pie," Hansel said seriously. "You can't go by yourself."

"Yea, Belle," Gretel said sincerely. "Maybe we should wait for Father."

Lacey knew that if their father returned to find she had lied or had put his children even in the thought of harm's way, his ax would become a deal more deadly. "No need for that," she said brightly, teeth in a grimace of a smile.

"Let's just find the house and then you two will go back home where you'll be safe and sound when your father gets back."

She drew the cloak back around her shoulders, watching as Hansel went back and scattered a few breadcrumbs between the path and the fork they had chosen. Gretel had another bag on her hip which Lacey guessed contained more breadcrumbs. Her stomach twisted painfully and the gurgling noises were loud enough for the children to hear.

"Your father is going to kill me," Lacey grumbled as they headed down the path, Hansel in the lead.

"Only if we get caught," Gretel said angelically. Lacey looked down at the dark haired girl beside her and sighed.

Children.

"There it is," Hansel whispered.

Crouching in the brush just off the trail, Lacey barely managed to keep her tone down as she squeaked, "That's it?"

Just down the hill, there was a small pathway that trailed off the main path. Large pale and smooth cobblestones made their way to a monstrosity of a gingerbread house. It was small and squat and looked straight out of a holiday how-to guide. Lacey stood slightly, motioning for the children to stay where they were as she moved closer to get a better look.

The roof was icing, honest to god, white-frosted fondue with candy corn sticking out of the alcoves, gummy drops spaced pleasantly between sprinkles and bright hard shining candy. The door was perfectly centered, framed by two large candy canes and swirly gumdrops.

The curtains in the windows were drawn, black spaces in the otherwise colorful riot that was the witch's house. The build-up of fear and anxiety that had followed her for the past few hours evaporated. By the time she had returned to the children, she was giggling.

"Okay, I think I can handle it from here," Lacey chuckled, removing the cloak and handing it back to a stone-faced Gretel. "You two get back home before it's dark."

"What's so funny?" Hansel grunted.

"It's a gingerbread house," Lacey said incredulously. "How is that even remotely scary?"

Gretel gazed down at the house, shuddering slightly. "But Belle, look at its eyes…"

"Eyes?" Lacey asked, glancing back down at it. From this angle, she could see what appeared to be two large marshmallows with black licorice centers over the downstairs windows. From this angle, they did appear to be staring up at the trio, the door now looking more like a mouth, the candy canes yawning wide to frame the cavernous hole.

Before the children's fear could infect her, Lacey laughed again. "Looks like I'm going to get my sugar fix and get this quest completed all in one swing."

"You mustn't eat anything!" Gretel exclaimed, whirling about. Her eyes were large in her face and her bottom lip was trembling. Lacey realized that the younger girl had been paralyzed with fear this entire time. Bending down, she helped her stand up, brushing the twigs and dirt from her skirts.

"Honestly, you two," Lacey murmured. "You're worried for nothing. She's a blind witch living in a candy house. I'll be fine, I've gone up against worse than the likes of a diabetic spinister."

Realizing the siblings were staring at her in confusion, she paused. "Never mind. The point is, I can do this, but I need to know you two are safely back home first."

Gretel looked over at her brother questioningly. Hansel had his arms crossed, staring down at the house with a frown on his round face. Finally, he nodded.

"Come on Gretel," he sighed, brushing past Lacey without comment.

Gretel swayed unsurely before she gave a small cry as if she had been injured and flung her arms around Lacey's hips. With one tight squeeze, she released her and flew after her brother, her mother's cloak flapping behind her. Lacey stood where she left her, hands in mid-motion to wrap around the child's shoulders.

Hansel turned once they were several yards away and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Don't eat anything!" Lacey nodded but the boy had already turned, grabbing his sister's hand as they followed the breadcrumbs back home.

Swallowing the rather odd lump in her throat which she decided must be related to thirst or hunger, Lacey settled back down in the brush to wait.

When the sun began to lower into the horizon of the treetops, Lacey stood and stretched. She had taken a small nap earlier and she felt twigs and berries tangled in her hair. Brushing herself off, she turned to look behind her. Not a creature stirred on the path. Even the birds were silent in this part of the woods.

Glancing down at the house, Lacey was surprised to notice the marshmallow decor was now missing its black licorice decorations. It no longer looked like eyes but two large puffs of clouds. "It's a witch's gingerbread house," she muttered to herself as she rejoined the main trail. "Things are bound to move around a bit."

She made her way slowly down the hill, the steep incline making it hard for her to keep her footing as her shoes slipped and slid across the loose dirt. Finally, she made it to the bottom of the hill, only to find the house now sat further back in a clearing, almost half hidden by trees and bushes.

"Now, I know you weren't there before," she told one tree, frowning up at it. The tree did not respond, but the branches shuddered slightly in the late afternoon wind that rose from the east.

Following the now almost hidden pathway, Lacey found herself finally standing before every child's dream house. It smelled like freshly baked cookies, newly whipped icing and a sweet fruity smell like warm apple pie. Lacey felt her mouth water slightly as her stomach gurgled a little. Her hand went out towards the small chocolate blocks that seemed to be bricks outlining the windowsills, but Hansel's warning echoed in her ear and she let her hand drop.

Creeping to a window, Lacey ignored the omnipresent feeling of someone watching her. A blind witch, she reminded herself fiercely, could not watch anyone.

The window was open, the curtain blowing faintly in the breeze. Lacey gently reached for it using a twig from the ground, nudging it ever so slightly. The interior slowly illuminated as the curtain let some light shine through. Lacey glanced around, noting the gingerbread walls were also lined with icing pipets, sprinkled toppings and candy jutting out at inviting angles. She could make out a fireplace, empty and ashy in the autumn day. It took up the entire back wall, large enough to stand in.

It seemed like a small hut, barely large enough for one person with all the clutter. A substantial farm table took up the entire center of the room, chairs stuffed around it as if waiting for a large party. There was also one wing back chair just in the corner of the room, facing the fireplace. Lacey could not see the other side of the room, but she heard nothing indicating anyone was at home.

Careful to not let her arm brush anything, Lacey pulled her hand back. Keeping the slender branch in her hand, she moved toward the front door slowly. She glanced up, just as she went to clasp the handle and found the black licorice dots were back on the marshmallows, now both aimed downwards, as if looking right at her.

Ignoring the chill that ran down her spine, she took her apron in her hand, and using it, slowly went to open the door. To her surprise, as soon as her covered hand bumped the wood, it swung quietly open, indicating it had been ajar this entire time. Mouthing a small reassurance to herself, Lacey nudged it further open, sliding into the small opening and into the dark interior of the cottage.

The shadows brought faint reminders of Geppetto's home, but where the woodcutter's home had been warmly spartan, this was a cornucopia of childish delights. Toys were littered across the floor, candy was gleaming from every surface, and a pitcher of milk sat upon a counter, gleaming pearl white from the light coming in behind her.

Cursing herself for not keeping her candle, Lacey slowly moved closer to the main area, listening carefully for any sign of someone being at home. As cluttered as the house was, there was nothing that signaled a witch lived there. Lacey turned to her left, where the shadows were the darkest and froze.

A gleaming metal cage crouched in the far corner of the room by the fireplace. Its bars were thick and numerous, even though the cage was barely four feet high. Deciding it was a dog cage of some kind, Lacey twisted to look behind her at the quickly disappearing sunlight. A witch was one thing; a loose and possibly hellhound dog was quite another.

Moving quickly towards the wingback chair, she counted to four before she peeked over the edge. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief at the empty seat, heart thumping wildly in her chest as she took one last glance around the small room. No one was home.

Relieved by her good timing, Lacey hurried around from corner to corner, looking for any small strand of hair. The floors were shiny, as if they had just been mopped. No cobwebs stood in any corner and there was no bed to check for broken strands. "Where's a bathtub when you need one?" Lacey whispered to herself as she grew more and more frustrated with her search. This homeowner was proving to be one of the cleanest witches of all time.

"Belle?"

Nearly knocking over the pitcher of milk beside her, Lacey spun to find Hansel and Gretel peering over the window sill. Their eyes barely made it over the edge, and she could just see two pairs of eyes and dark heads bobbing nervously beneath the curtain.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered furiously as she hurried over to them. "I told you to go home!"

"The breadcrumbs," Hansel muttered, cheeks burning red. "The crows ate them and we got lost-"

"We found our way back here," Gretel whispered. Her voice was thick with tears and Lacey threw one last look over her shoulder. She needed to find that hair or she would never hear the end of it.

"Get in here," Lacey whispered, jerking her chin toward the door. "Help me look for a hair."

"Ew," Gretel complained but she and her brother disappeared from the sill. Moments later, they appeared in the ajar doorway, squeezing in easily. Both looked awed by the collection of toys, Gretel even reaching for one before her brother caught her hand.

"Gretel, you look over by the table," Lacey directed. "Hansel, over by the chair."

She herself took the corner with the cage, hoping the falling shadows would hide it from the children for a bit longer. Surely, three of them could find a hair before the mistress of the house returned?

Moments passed in quiet work. Lacey scoured the dark corners, using her apron to pat the floorboards and the bringing up nothing as much as a dust speck.

She in the middle of reevaluating the woman's cleanliness to obsession when her hand hit a small hard object which rolled and clattered in the otherwise silent house.

Both children froze, turning to look at her. Lacey carefully reached out to collect the round object, lifting it up to the light. A grinning skull stared back at her, empty sockets and rotten teeth in a child's skeleton.

Lacey didn't realize she dropped it, but she heard it crack against the floorboard as she grabbed Hansel's arm, dragging him from the fireplace. Gretel hurried forward, meeting them by the door and slipping out first. Pushing Hansel in front of her, Lacey cleared the door, hyperventilating as she burst back out into the night. Gretel hadn't paused, already almost back to the main pathway.

"Fuck this," Lacey grumbled, barely audible over the pounding in her ears. Her hand flexed and spasmed as she tried to remove the memory of the weight of the child's skull. Hansel barely broke a sweat but when she glanced down at him, she stopped dead.

In his hands, there was a large slab of chocolate, hastily broken off with jagged edges. Hansel's fingers had already dented it where they clung to it, melted chocolate staining his fingernails. "I didn't mean to!" he exclaimed, looking guilt-stricken. "It just smelled so good!"

"Hansel-" Lacey started but before she could finish, a high-pitched cackle came from up ahead.

Before them, Gretel was wrapped in the clutches of a woman. Tall and pale, she had no color to her skin or hair and she almost glowed in the setting sun. The hand wrapped around Gretel's neck was covered in blue veins which, Lacey realized, were actually stylized branches painted over the woman's skin, reaching up to claw at her bare shoulders. No, not nude, Lacey realized as the full skirts of the witch's gown twisted around her and Gretel's small form.

The witch smiled with gleaming white teeth, and Lacey saw each was sharpened into a pointed incisor. Alabaster hair twisted into dreadlocks swooped over her forehead and then fell around her shoulders and draped down her back. It explained why they hadn't found any strands of hair in the cottage. Her eyes were milky white, pale orbs in the already pale face.

"Why," the albino witch cooed, voice sweet as honey. "Isn't this a sweet surprise?"

* * *

_And there we are! Chapter 20!_

_Mood Board for this chapter can be found here:_

_post/133875511142/mood-board-for-chapter-20-of-the-gate_

_Please as always feel free to let me know your thoughts on this chapter. Some of you guys are always SPOT on in your guesses! Plus, as a writer, it is always incredibly helpful, motivating, inspiring to know people are enjoying the work._

_Thanks as always guys for reading! Thanks as always to Ramloth for editing!_


	21. Chapter 21

Inside the sugar high hut, Lacey could see the slight frame of Gretel tending to the fire on her knees. Behind her, the giant wingback chair hid the Blind Witch from sight, but Lacey knew she was sitting there, watching. Pulling and tugging at her bindings, Lacey grumbled and growled under her breath as she struggled to free herself.

The children had been right; the Blind Witch had shown little interest in Lacey. She had locked Hansel in the cage, the poor boy nearly bent in two unless he crouched down, before having Gretel help tie Lacey up outside. Despite her disability, Lacey was confident that the witch had enjoyed the tableau of a wretched Gretel sobbing as she bound her only chance of rescue to a tree. It did seem a bit simple for a witch's way of dispatching an adult. She had half expected to be magicked to dust or turned into a bug.

But no, she was tied up outside, no less deadly. If animals didn't get to her in the night, hypothermia, thirst or hunger should do the trick eventually. Lacey warranted the small talisman tucked away in her bodice would continue to protect her against animals, but the elements were another matter.

While she had been confused at first, Lacey quickly caught on to the witch's modus operandi. The tree she was bound to was strategically placed so Lacey had a clear view of the fireplace. Gretel occasionally would look out the window and see her yards away in the darkness, and they both knew she was unable to help them or herself. This particular punishment was more to inspire fear and dread. The witch obviously enjoyed playing with her food before she ate it. Gretel's terror and Hansel's hopelessness as they awaited their deaths were merely appetizers prior to the main course. And as for her, Lacey had a sinking suspicion that she was meant to watch.

Her fingers, numb from lack of circulation, were bloody from her exertions, but Lacey gritted her teeth against the pain. This might not be entirely her fault, but there was no way in hell she was going to stand idly by while this fruitcake ate the Holz children. "Now would be a really good time to pop in," Lacey mumbled to the nonpresent Imp. "Feel free. Anytime now."

He did not appear. No stirrings of magic whispered against her skin or made the hairs on the back of her neck rise up. No, it seemed whatever deal he was facilitating elsewhere was taking up his time from rescue missions.

From inside, she heard the faint sounds of talking. Lacey jerked her head back up as the back door swung open and Gretel hurried out. Her shoulders hunched and shaking as she kept her eyes on her feet. The door hung ajar behind her and Lacey could see Hansel crouching in his cage, face hidden in his knees.

"Gretel," Lacey whispered. "What's happening?"

"She wants to talk to you," Gretel said miserably, tear tracks down her round cheeks. As she leaned into undo the ties, she began to whisper. "Maybe she'll let you go and you can get father."

Knowing the girl's optimism was ill-fated, Lacey stood still to allow the girl to unknot the bindings. As they fell away, Lacey collapsed forward, shrugging her shoulders to get circulation back into her arms as she massaged her torn and bruised wrists. Gretel turned to head back inside but Lacey caught her. "Go back to the trail," Lacey whispered, eyes locked on the door. "Follow the breadcrumbs back."

Gretel was crying again. Huge tears leaked out of her big brown eyes as she shook her head. "I won't leave Hans," she said fiercely. "He wouldn't leave me."

As an only child, Lacey had never quite understood sibling loyalty. She knew plenty of people who hated their family, including their brothers and sisters, others who were merely apathetic to their blood relations, and sure, one or two who Lacey privately thought were a little too attached to their siblings. But she had somehow grown used to the two Holz children being at each other's side constantly. It was not weird, it simply was.

"Okay," Lacey grumbled as they began to move towards the ajar door. A plan was beginning to occur to Lacey but if it was to work, she would risk losing the children's trust. "When we get inside-"

"What's taking so long?" came a sugary sweet voice from inside. "You wouldn't want to catch a cold, would you?"

The witch could clearly hear them perfectly. With one last pointed look at Gretel, Lacey straightened and made her way purposefully into the cottage. Hansel did not stir. He kept his head down, and Lacey ignored him too. She had once been his age, embarrassed, lost and scared. Sometimes she had needed someone to be there, and sometimes she had needed someone to look the other way while she cried. She could at least do that for him.

Marching directly in front of the wingback chair, she glared down at the Blind Witch, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. "So, what's your excuse then?" Lacey demanded.

The Blind Witch blinked, a small smile curving her lips as she peered up unseeingly in Lacey's general direction. Gretel had moved quietly to the cage, kneeling down to hold her brother's hands through the bars. "I beg your pardon?" The witch said softly, a hint of steel lacing her amused tone.

"I said," Lacey repeated, eyes flickering to the frightened children in the corner. "What is your excuse for detaining me in such a manner?"

A peal of laughter issued from the razor sharp mouth, a pale hand fluttering towards her. Lacey flinched but no magic issued forth. "Why," the pale witch drawled. "You're rather spicy, aren't you?"

"You ask a lot of questions," Lacey responded curtly. "How about you try and answer one?"

The witch stood so quickly, Lacey didn't realize it at first. She took a quick half step backwards, and immediately felt the heat of the fire on her back. Blank white eyes shone yellow and red from the flames as shadows licked at her heels. "Do you dare to speak to me in such a manner? Do you not know who I am?"

Lacey stepped towards the side, away from the fire's greedy fingers as she tried to avoid any involuntary noises that would give her up. "No one of importance," Lacey bluffed. She cast about for inspiration and found it in the very walls of their prison. "Jus some sightless hack who lures children in with a cavity of a house. If you hadn't magicked the trail to confuse and maroon anyone over the age of puberty, I doubt you'd still be alive."

"An attempt to rouse me?" The Blind Witch moved closer, hand cocked at an impossible angle as she stared through her. Lacey stood her ground despite every nerve ending screaming at her to run. The children were watching; their lives were dependent on her. So, she waited, knowing the witch had a reason for bringing her inside, for sparing her life in the first place even for just a little while. After a moment, the witch showed her hand. "Tell me, who do you work for?"

"You don't know?" Lacey asked, stalling for time. So, the witch had kept her alive while she tried to find out from the children why they were here. Failing that, she had decided to try another tactic, bringing her in for questioning. Lacey's plan could work, just as long as the Imp was notorious in all realms and not just certain ones.

The witch stood waiting, hands curled out as if she was waiting to take something, a life or a hand, Lacey couldn't be sure. She had yet to perform any magic and Lacey wondered if her magic differed from the powers she had seen so far. Perhaps it explained why she had a gingerbread house in the forest instead of a dark castle or a sea kingdom under her thrall. "My master," Lacey started, allowing herself a slight shudder of distaste at the word, "is lord of the Dark Castle-"

A hiss issued from the witch at those words, her hands twisting into claws as she approached Lacey. "Lešak? He dares and send a mortal to parlay with me?"

As many names as realms, apparently, Lacey thought as she took a few steps hastily backwards. She tried to catch the children's eyes, but they were too far in shadow to see. Here was the rub. If she convinced the witch she worked for someone more powerful and evil than her, she would probably never gain the trust of the children back. Wavering for a moment, Lacey pressed on. Far better for them to hate her for the rest of their lives than die in the middle of the woods, eaten alive by a cannibal witch. "Wonder how he'll take your plans to eat the virgins he sent me out to collect?" Lacey asked pointedly. "You know how he is when he doesn't get his way."

Apparently, she did. Momentarily deflated, the witch stopped in her tracks. "His?" She looked towards the cage, inhaling deeply. Lacey, realizing it was not just sound that alerted the witch, it was also smell. Gretel had stood and was slowly approaching behind them. At the witch's focus, she had frozen and slowly began to back up again. She had her eyes locked on the witch but her eyes darted to Lacey, hurt and betrayal evident in the tightness of her mouth and the look in her eyes.

"I was sent to bring them to him," Lacey said quickly, diverting the witch's attention from the girl. She motioned for the girl to return to the corner where she would be out of the way. "He mentioned you might be still lurking around but not to worry," Lacey continued with a grin, stepping forward. Her eyes watched the clawed nails. "He said you weren't much of a threat."

"How dare he!?" The witch trembled with rage. Lacey winced but the Blind Witch did not lash out. No magic or claws touched her and Lacey began to believe she could do this.

"You're scared," Lacey whispered, leaning in until she was cheek to cheek with the cannibal. "Let us go and he might find it within himself to be merciful."

Laughter followed this. Lacey stepped back and caught sight of the witch's face. A wild grin stretched across her face, the razor sharp teeth gnashing as she clapped her hands together. "Do I look a fool?" she asked mockingly. "Lešak does not eat, he does not sleep, he does not have these needs, but surely you knew that?"

Lacey began to back up, eyes glancing between the Blind Witch and the minefield that was her cottage. The witch seemed to know the place as if it was part of her. She sidestepped every obstacle with ease, her full skirt whispering over the floor as she advanced. "Now, the question is, shall you die before or after the children?"

Involuntarily, Lacey glanced over to the children. Hansel's face framed by bars triggered a memory. A kind face had rescued her once from behind bars. He had overcome all the odds and she had made it out alive. He had not.

Lacey felt the table's edge dig into her hip and she faltered. The witch, cackled as if she had been anticipating this weakness. Lacey glanced down at the table to get her bearing. She noticed a wicked looking boning knife buried in the wood. It was halfway down the table, just out of reach.

"Now what, hmm?" The witch savored. "Tell me… will there be anyone to mourn you?"

"God, you're annoying," Lacey remarked drily, edging towards the other side of the table. "What is this twenty fucking questions?"

Snarling, the witch lunged, sinking her claws across Lacey's flesh. As the long sharp nails ripped down Lacey's arm, catching her bodice and ripping it into shreds, there was the sound of something metallic against the floor. Whirling, the witch loomed over Gretel, who stood in the center of the room holding a long poker.

The small girl froze under the force of the witch, only her eyes darted to the fireplace. "Where do you think you're going?" the witch asked, forgetting Lacey for a moment. "Are you trying to be a hero?"

Lacey glanced over, trying to find out what Gretel had been up to when she saw a small bundle of keys above the mantle. They dangled just out of reach for a child, but not if she used something to knock them free.

The witch's face was darkening, her jaw gaping wide open as she prepared to strike, and Lacey knew the girl would not raise the weapon in her own defence. Without thinking it through, Lacey lunged on the witch's back, trying to wrestle her to the floor. The spell broken, Gretel darted out of the way as Lacey fought to keep a hold on the infuriated witch.

Reeling backwards and flinging her elbows out, the witch managed to throw Lacey off her. Lacey wound up flat on her back on the table, stunned and wheezing for air. A moment later, a milky white hand, traced with faint blue veins clasped around Lacey's neck. With an ease that betrayed the small figure, the witch bodily lifted her off the table. Lacey dug her own hands into the witch's grip, as she fought for breath, but her feet could not get traction.

"Die," the witch hissed. Her face darkened and her jaws gaped open like a snake's as she moved her face to Lacey's.

With her vision starting to blacken, Lacey barely saw the whirl of silver descending from just over the witch's shoulder. As it hit the side of the witch's head, the creature staggered, dropping Lacey into a heap on the floor. Gasping, Lacey sucked as much air as she could into her abused lungs as she struggled to raise herself up. Gretel stood behind the witch, between them and her brother. The child struggled against the witch's thrall, panting as she tried to hold the poker up in defense as the witch beared down on her.

The Blind Witch rushed at Gretel in a whirl of skirts and fury. Hansel cried out a warning, but it was too late. As the witch pounced, Gretel only barely managed to raise her weapon in defense. Misjudging the girls' determination, the witch did not alter her momentum and a sickening squish emanated from between them.

For a moment, no one made a sound. Then, Gretel whimpered and dropped the rod, stepping backwards as if to turn and run. Wheezing, the Blind Witch swayed on her heels and turned sideways. Lacey struggled to her knees as she watched the witch clutch at the steel rod buried in her stomach. Unseeing eyes blinked as if dazed, and the witch's pale hands came away from her center, dark with black blood.

Standing up, Lacey gasped, hand rubbing at her raw throat. "Gretel," Lacey wheezed, moving to the side of the shell shocked girl. The girl winced, moving away as if Lacey had burned her. There was no warmth or trust in the child's eyes. She was no longer the same little girl who had cried when she had to kill a chicken for dinner.

"Can you get home?" Lacey asked softly. Gretel did not answer. She watched the Blind Witch, her eyes glassy, but no tears trickled down her cheeks now. Lacey knew that look. She had seen it often enough in the mirror. Kindness and soft words were not going to break through. Steeling herself, she barked, "Gretel!" The kid jumped, eyes finding hers even though they were narrowed in distrust. "As soon as Hansel's free, can you get home?"

For a moment, Lacey doubted if the girl would answer her. Finally, Gretel nodded.

Lacey moved around the edges of the cottage, keeping her distance from the moaning witch bleeding out in the center of the room. Careful of the heat of the flames, hot enough to cause sweat to break out across her temples, Lacey plucked the keys from their place on the wall. The Blind Witch was still standing in the center of the room, pulling at the poker stick. In the cage, Hansel had been sick. He was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as silent tears rolled down his face.

Lacey gave Gretel the keys, nudging her to her brother. "Get him out," she instructed. When the girl didn't move, Lacey bent down, careful to keep an eye on the injured witch. "It's over," Lacey assured her. "Go take care of your brother."

Gretel wrenched her eyes free as she moved jerkily towards the far wall. Lacey turned back to the issue at hand. The witch had managed to remove the poker stick, dropping it on the floor as she staggered closer to the flames. Lacey followed her, eyes focused on the long dreads, the ends splattered with black blood.

Nearby, her eyes caught the gleam of the knife that had been stabbed into the table, blood still rusted on the knife would be used for something else in the end, she decided, something other than death. Lacey pulled it free, moving forward until she was just out of reach of the razor sharp nails.

The witch looked up as Lacey advanced on her. "Bested by a kid," Lacey whispered to her, keeping her eyes off the mortal wound. "Have you magical psychos ever heard of hubris?" The witch cocked her head, her face a mask of pain and confusion. Lacey continued forward, grim amusement coloring her tone."They say it's a real bitch."

"Laughing already?" the Witch coughed. Blood mixed with her spit, coating her white chin with a pink froth. "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? Do you think a mere flesh wound will kill me?"

Lacey didn't actually. She didn't know much of the way witches or magic worked in this land. If impaling wouldn't do the trick…

"Gretel," Hansel called from behind her. "Let's go!"

Lacey turned to find the girl holding the bloody poker in her hands as if she meant to finish the job. At the look in her eyes, Lacey was not sure if she had meant to attack the witch or her. "You go on," Lacey said, looking back to the injured witch. "I'll finish it."

Gretel did not say anything but Lacey heard the sound of the poker hitting the floor and retreating footsteps as she joined her brother. The door creaked open as the children made their escape. The witch groaned, taking a shaky step forward as if to reclaim them. Lacey blocked her way, reaching up and grabbing one of her dreadlocks. Her other hand came up, knife in hand to slice it free.

A scream and a wretched snarl followed this as the witch's hands flew to her hacked off hair. Wailing, her nails reached out to tear at Lacey's face. Twisting away, Lacey lashed out, elbowing the witch's bloody core as she tried to protect her face. The witch immediately recoiled, clutching at her gut. She moaned as she struggled back upright, but she did not seem as fatally wounded as Lacey had thought. "A hair?" the witch groaned, backing away from her. "He sent you for the hair?"

"I wanted to do this the easy way," Lacey reminded her as she pocketed the hair and the knife. "But you magical morons have to make everything so goddamn dramatic."

"Do you think he won't betray you?" the Blind Witch asked, trying a new tactic. Her words gurgled as blood came to her lips. "How long before he sends someone to dispatch of you?"

A cold chill ran up Lacey's neck. She knew it was from the recently opened door, the warmth of the fire at her front making the outside air feel cooler. But part of her knew the warning was well warranted. The Imp might need her for his own needs, but he had shown little interest in helping keep her alive. It had been up to her to survive. It had always been up to her.

Taking advantage of the silence, the witch staggered closer to her, a hand reaching out to her as blood dripped to stain the straw on the floor. "Together, we could defeat him, hmm? Imagine all of his power at our command, can't you see it?"

Lacey let out a wheezing chuckle as she shook her head. "I just want to go home," she confessed. "I want to be back in the city with cars and cell phones and internet... and where monsters aren't real things lurking in the woods."

The witch did not seem to understand the unfamiliar words. She simply cocked her head as if to listen closer, her eyes shone bright with pain. Blood bubbled on her lips as she tried to bargain back her life. "There's always monsters in the world, girl. Lešak, me, the world is full of monsters, and you… you're one of us."

Lacey stood before the witch, bathed in equal shadow and light. All her life, she had lied. Sometimes, she had cheated. She had manipulated, bribed, and seduced in another lifetime without any hint of guilt or concerns of morality. And here, in this nightmare, she had gotten people killed. She had never said she was anything less than who she was, but in this place, in this upside down world, she didn't even know who that was anymore. All she knew was she wanted to see tomorrow badly enough to kill to ensure it. If that made her a monster, so be it.

"Maybe," Lacey whispered. "But I'm not like you." Then, in a move her tae bo instructor would have been proud of, Lacey drew her elbows to her chest and lashed out her right leg, catching the witch right below her stomach.

The witch instinctively reached out, hands entangling in the long dirty fabric of Lacey's dress. Collapsing backwards, the witch shrieked and tightened her grip as she felt the heat of the fire, pulling Lacey down with her. Lacey grasped for the mantle, catching it just as the witch tumbled into the flames.

At the first scream, the hands entangling her skirts freed themselves as they waved frantically for purchase. Lacey pushed herself backwards, falling onto her ass as she scurried away from the sparks and screams. Toys bumped and rolled as she crawled backwards until her hand hit something hard and metallic. She grasped the forgotten poker stick like an anchor as she watched the figure burn, white skin bubbling and cracking as the fire she had built to feed her instead consumed her.

"See you in hell," Lacey murmured, wiping the black blood off her hands and onto her skirts. She glanced around, at the toys littering the floors and the bones she knew were hiding in the nooks and corners and shuddered. She hoped the whole place burned.

Dropping the stick on her way to the door, she double checked to make sure the hard won lock of hair was still in her pocket. Her clothes smelled of fire, her throat was raw and she was now covered in black witch's blood. She hoped the Imp was waiting to take her home because she was ready for a bath. A real one with magical hot water, never ending tea and a pillow. Nothing sweet though. Chocolate, Lacey found, was no longer as comforting as it had once been.

As she stepped outside, she found the children gone and no magical lizard waiting for her. Sighing, she moved towards the main path. He'd show eventually, Lacey figured. After all, she did have the spell ingredient he had requested. No deals had been made pertaining to her time or energy.

Pausing, Lacey frowned, turning and looking back at the gingerbread cottage. She was still on the property, but the house already looked darker, smaller as if it was shrinking in on itself. She wondered if she should stay here. Surely it would be the first place he would look for her?

Or he might assume she would return to the mill with the children.

Lacey groaned, turning back to the main path. She doubted Hansel or Gretel would take kindly to her following them, but they had enough of a head start. She would simply follow the trail back and then hide out in the woods of the glen.

That was the plan at least, until Lacey heard the quiet whisperings from just off the path.

"Kids?" she called out, moving towards the sound. "What are you two doing?"

"Don't hurt us!" Hansel wailed, popping up from behind a bush. "We just want to go home!"

Lacey sighed, motioning him over. "I'm not going to hurt you two," she assured them.

"You're lying," Gretel said, appearing beside her brother. "We heard you-"

"Lying to save your lives?" Lacey finished for her, crossing her arms. The children did not move from the bushes, staring her down. She knew if she took a step forward, they would flee into the forest and she did not trust their safety in the darkness.

"Look," she said, motioning at herself. "I'm covered in blood, bruised and beaten and I want nothing more than to go home."

"Then go," Gretel said hotly. Lacey was taken aback at the vehemence. "We don't need you."

"Fine," Lacey grumbled. She had done her part. If they got killed out here in the woods, it was not her fault. Not if they refused her help. Her conscience was clear. "Get eaten by wild bears, see if I care."

Still, she listened to the muttering between them as she turned away. She walked slowly, straining to hear. Gretel's high pitched arguments were angry and short while Hansel spoke softly, his voice questioning. Just when Lacey reached the first bend, she heard branches rustling as the siblings came onto the path.

She did not pause, but kept walking. As dark as it was, the twin moons illuminated the path decently in this area, and she could see here and there a faint crumb from their earlier trip to the witch's house.

She did not comment when she felt them come up behind her. She simply walked on, as if nothing was wrong. They went this way for a while, the trio half dead from exhaustion, but too wound up to sleep. Near death was something Lacey had grown familiar with, but the children, young as they were, seemed to be dealing with their first brush with death as best as could be expected. Unbidden, Lacey thought their father would be proud of them and then brushed the thought away. When they were reunited with their father, she would have to be long gone or Koby would show her the business end of his ax.

After a while, Lacey noticed she hadn't seen a crumb in a while. She paused, looking behind her to see the two children, half asleep on their feet, clutching each other's arms to stay upright. Gretel, too tired to remember she wasn't speaking to her, blinked up at her. "What?" she slurred as a yawn cracked her jaw.

"Nothing," Lacey mumbled. "Let's keep moving. We're almost there."

It was a lie. But it was a well meaning one, so she hoped. As they made their way further and further into the night, Lacey began to doubt herself but did not dare stop for fear of what would happen if they closed their eyes out here.

Lacey was not sure how long they had been walking when she heard the children stop. Turning, she found Gretel staring into the trees, Hansel asleep on his feet. "Just a little bit further," Lacey murmured, wiping sleep out of her eyes. "We've got to keep going."

"That's the border marker," Gretel said, pointing at something. "One more step and we'll be in the First Kingdom."

"What?" Lacey asked, moving back towards them. Hansel jerked awake, blinking in alarm as he found Lacey right beside him. Peering into the darkness where Gretel was staring, she saw the tree in question. It was small and slender, with silver leaves that gleamed white in the moonlight. The trunk was pale blue, half hidden in the shadows. Lacey wondered how the girl had even see it.

"Okay, so what does that mean?"

"It means," came an amused voice from behind them. "You're in violation of the Two Kings' Decree."

Emerging from the darkness of the forest, Lacey and the children found themselves suddenly surrounded by shadowy figures. The figure who had spoken stepped forward, his poncho hood pulled low over his face so his mouth was the only thing visible in the darkness. He held a bow and arrow loosely at his side, non-threateningly but a warning all the same.

The children moved closer to her. Better the enemy they knew, Lacey figured, putting her arms around them. "We're lost," Lacey confessed, keeping an eye on a huge figure lurking to her right. It held a tree limb as a staff and stood well within striking distance. "Obviously, we took the wrong turn. Sorry for the confusion, if you could just-"

"Oh no," the hooded figure laughed, stepping towards her. "You're coming with us."

"And who are you?" Hansel demanded from under Lacey's right arm.

Hushing him with a firm squeeze of his shoulder, Lacey nodded. "Kid's got a point," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

A second later, every figure was aiming a weapon of some kind at them. Lacey saw clubs, bows and even an ax. The staff-wielding mountain had stepped a half inch closer, and his shoulders were tensed as if simply awaiting a signal.

The hooded figure simply laughed. "Where are my manners?" he asked himself. He bowed low, sweeping his arm out underneath him. When he straightened, he tugged the hood off his head, revealing a man with piercing brown eyes, a roguish grin and prominent cheekbones. He was a complete fox.

"They call me Robin Hood," he said jocularly. "And these ruffians make up my merry men." The group slowly lowered their weapons, a few even stepping out of the shadows to get a better look at them. "We should get going before the sun rises. We have to be well away before the patrol comes."

"We'll just go back," Lacey offered. She leaned towards him invitingly as she smiled over the children's heads. "I just need to get these to back home-"

"Robin!" someone called out from the treetops above them. "Patrol is coming!"

Robin nodded, turning apologetically. "Afraid I can't leave you here for the patrol to find. The Sheriff of Nottingham is not a man you want to find you in the woods alone. There's a home just on the edge of the woods, there's a place to sleep and eat."

"Food?" Hansel piped up, looking hopeful. At his side, Gretel yawned, her jaw stretching wide. Robin smiled down at her. "Little John?"

The mountain to their right stepped forward revealing a pleasant looking man with gray shaggy hair with feathers woven throughout smiling down at them like a young Father Christmas. "Hello," he greeted Gretel, bending down to her level. "Care for a lift?"

The innate judge of character that children possessed astonished Lacey. Despite the trauma from earlier, the little girl lifted her hands to be picked up and was swung into the waiting arms of the giant.

Deciding to trust this group, odd as they were, Lacey turned back to Robin with a nod. "Let's get going," she said. Robin glanced down at the boy beside her, taking in the tired slump of his shoulders and red eyes. Hansel straightened, shooting daggers at Robin Hood in case he dared suggest he wasn't man enough to walk.

"Very well," Robin laughed. "Follow me."

* * *

_And with that folks, we are in the First Kingdom!_

_I've hope you enjoyed Lacey's little adventure in the Second Kingdom and her triumph over the Blind Witch. Next chapter, we'll meet another new face. Any guesses?_

_On a small side note, thank you to anyone who takes the time to review. This story is such a huge undertaking that is very easy for me to get discouraged and want to give up on it. Sadly for me, it's my favorite project, and I find myself unable to do so. If you enjoy The Gate, please, please leave me a review and let me know. I appreciate every single one._

_As far as updates, I have the next 9 chapters written, just waiting to be beta edited. I will hopefully be able to post weekly for the next few months depending on my lovely beta's schedule which due to the holidays is a bit busy at the moment. She does such a great job though, don't you agree?_

_Mood board for this chapter can be found here: post/134352225432/mood-board-for-the-gate-chapter-21_


	22. Chapter 22

When they finally stumbled out of the woods, the sunrise had already begun to color the sky with soft pinks and pale oranges. A murder of crows were calling out in the early light, drifting and rising with the currents as they swooped in lazy arcs to the ground. The smell of fall was heavy in the air, accented by the morning dampness. Across the flat grounds, Lacey could see a house in the morning fog, slowly revealing itself as the sun rose higher and higher.

Robin stood just to their left, whispering to one of his men. The conversation ended with a nod and the other melted back into the forest, joining the rest of the Merry Men. Robin caught her watching and came over to them. The night's walk had been rougher than she had anticipated. The Merry Men had been like shadows, and she had barely noticed that all but a few had disappeared until an hour ago.

Now, it was just Robin and the quiet giant. As day brightened, Lacey realized how much of a mess she must look. The wounds along her bare arms were aching and inflamed while her bodice was ripped half open, revealing the shift beneath it. Her skirt lay in tatters from the witch's claws and the various roots, twigs and branches that had snagged the torn fabric throughout the night. Her feet felt as if they were ten times their normal size. Practical as her cloth slippers were, they were not designed for hiking. Next to her, Hansel swayed as the giant called Little John stood just behind them, Gretel fast asleep in the his arms.

Pushing her hair back behind her ear, Lacey openly stared at Robin as he approached. His lips quirked in a smile but his eyes were harder to read.

"Now, then," he started. "This is the Lady Tremaine's estate," he told her, nodding towards the house in the distance. The fog had lifted slightly and Lacey could see a simple looking brick structure with dormer windows and chimneys at each end. The front was dominated by elaborate elongated arches and columns already gleaming bright white in the sunlight. "If you go to the back door, Ella will take care of you."

"Ella?" Lacey repeated. "Is she-"

"She's the maid," Robin finished for her, glancing over his shoulder. "Little John, we need to hurry if we're going to get back to the group without running into Patrol."

The giant nodded but glanced pointedly at his cargo. "Can't I just bring her to the door? No need to wake her."

"She can walk," Robin said firmly. "If Lady Tremaine sees us, it's our heads."

Reluctantly, Little John bent down for Hansel to shake his sister awake. Lacey sensing the opportunity was nearly gone caught Robin's elbow. "Thank you," she said, letting her hand linger. Robin glanced down at it, another knowing smile playing at his lips.

"My lady," he bowed. "I wish you luck on finding your way back home."

"You too," Lacey murmured, letting her hand trace the rough deerskin of his tunic. His eyes, observant as ever, lingered on the ripped and torn bodice and scratched flesh before they looked past her to the children. Duly reminded she had other things to attend to, Lacey sighed and dropped her hand back to her side. " I doubt we'll ever meet again..."

Robin grinned, lifting his bow over his shoulder. "A woman such are yourself is not someone one easily forgets."

Before she could respond in kind, Hansel and Gretel had tumbled over to them, rubbing sleep out of their eyes. Sometime in the night, Hansel had opted to tolerate Lacey, comforted by the Merry Men's company. Now, he looked suspiciously at her as Gretel yawned.

"We want to go with them," Hansel informed her, crossing his arms. Robin looked amused and Little John looked perplexed as Gretel reached out to take his large hand in her own.

"What's this now?" Robin asked in amusement, eyes flickering to Lacey. "A mutiny?"

"She's not who she says she is," Gretel replied. Little John looked torn, his hand trapped in the little girl's insistent grip. Lacey felt the exhaustion of the night catch up with her and she simply groaned, lifting a blood crusted hand in frustration.

Robin merely threw his head back and laughed. "Why, of course she's not," he told the children. "No one ever is."

"But-" Hansel and Gretel started, trying to speak over the other.

"From the looks of it," Robin continued, his tone brokering no argument. "She's had a rough go of it tonight. All of you have. Black blood can only mean one thing. I've heard the whispers about the witch who lives deep in the second kingdom but I've never heard of anyone who has made it out alive to tell the truth of it."

In the dawn's light, black splotches of blood were becoming evident on Gretel's clothing and smeared across her face and hair. Her hands were stained with it, and Hansel's clothes had splatter and spots of blood as well. Robin had probably seen all of this before he had even stepped onto the trail last night.

"Now," Robin continued. "If you come with me, you'll be outlaws. You'll never see your home again and every day runs the risk the good Sheriff of Nottingham will find and hang you for your crimes."

"Crimes?" Hansel asked in confusion. "But I thought-"

"We may help children and lost women find their way out of the forest but we also rob, steal and kill if the situation calls for it," Robin said candidly. Lacey was vividly reminded of blind dates with accountants who had explained their job roles with equal matter of factness. "Now, tell me, is that the life for your sister? For you?"

"But she's-" Gretel started but Robin's eye caught something in the distance and he stepped around them. A figure was hurrying towards them, a shawl flapping around narrow shoulders. With the sun rising behind the house, the figure was all shadow, but Little John and Robin were smiling, shoulders relaxed.

Finally close enough to see, the newcomer was revealed to be an extremely tall woman slightly older than Lacey. Her dark hair was pulled back at the sides, curling around her shoulders as bangs framed her face. She had alert but warm brown eyes, taking in the sight of them all with careful note. She had a oval face, rounded at the sides and pointed at the chin but her lips were full and twisted into a smile. Most promeintly however was the soot streaking her clothes, hair and skin.

"Robin," she greeted, pulling her long shawl tighter around her. As she did so, the too short hem of her dress was revealed. Lacey noticed her feet were bare. "And who are they this time?"

"Ella," Robin greeted, bowing low. "We found you some new mice to feed. Found them lost at the border of the Second Kingdom," Robin said, eyes glancing at Lacey. "We knew the boundaries would alert the patrol so we brought them here."

Ella sighed, crossing her arms as she regarded the rag tag trio. "You poor things," she sighed. "Let's get you up to the house before anybody wakes up. Robin," she added. "You might want to remain out of sight for a few days. The Royal Ball starts tonight and the Patrol is everywhere."

"What would we do without you?" he murmured, taking her hand in between his to deposit a kiss chastely on the back of it.

"You'd be just fine, I imagine," Ella said with a sigh, but Lacey saw her lips were pulled back just the slightest at the corners. "Now, go before someone sees you."

Ella took the two children firmly in hand, and marched them up the hill. Both went willingly, the thought of rest and food and the new kindly face winning out over a life of banditry in the forest. Lacey lingered at the edge of the woods with the two men. "Thanks again," she said lightly as she turned to go.

"My lady, a quick word." Robin stared up after the children. "You can trust Ella, but do as she says. If her stepmother finds you three, she'll call the Sheriff and he won't hesitate to throw the children into the ," he finished grimly. "He'll keep as a toy. If he finds out you met us, he'll torture all three of you for infomation you don't possess."

The trees around them swayed in the early morning breeze. They lifted the ends of the men's hair, and tugged at her ripped skirts. She was growing entirely sick of being threatened. Lacey crossed her arms over her stomach. "Whatever you say," she responded. She glanced back up at the hill, watching as the trio disappeared around the edge of the house. "Guess this is just a usual day for you guys, huh?"

There was no had gone, leaving her standing at the edge of the property talking to herself. With a last glance into the trees, Lacey turned and followed Ella's path, careful to hurry in case unfriendly eyes appeared at the windows.

When she found the back door, she entered into a kitchen. By the fireplace, Ella was lighting the morning fire, as Hansel and Gretel sat at a nearby table, devouring a platter of bread and cheese. They both looked up when she entered but quickly returned to their food.

"Now then," Ella said, straightening and dusting her hands and knees off. It did little; the soot streaked her clothes so thoroughly already, she had just rubbed it into a dull gray. "The children were telling me their father is at the Sun Court Market?"

Confirming this, Lacey went to the table, snagging a piece of crust that the children had left untouched. Hansel nudged a glass of milk towards her but Gretel kept her eyes pointedly away. Ella watched, picking up on all this.

"Good news is," Ella continued brightly, moving to the panty to collect breakfast for the household. "We have a supplier dropping off some meats this morning before he heads there himself."

Hansel grinned at Ella through a mouthful of cheese. "Father will be so surprised!"

Gretel said nothing, but continued to pick at her bread like a bird.

"I suppose he will," Ella said, glancing at Lacey out of the corner of her eye. "But the issue is- I doubt he'll have room for all three of you."

"Is he trustworthy?" Lacey asked, ignoring the children's glaring.

Ella nodded, making quick work of preparing what looked like sausage and bacon in a black pan. "He's an old family friend of mine," she said confidently. "He'll be happy for the company." Ella moved to hang the pan over the fireplace, picking up a poker to stir the embers red hot.

That was when Gretel began to scream.

Alarmed, Ella dropped the poker, causing an even louder racket as it clattered against the stones of the fireplace. Hansel was frozen, staring at his sister as if he had never seen her before. Only Lacey realized what was happening and she managed to move to Gretel's side, trying to calm her down. Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect. At the sight of the blood still covering Lacey, the child pushed back from the table and launched herself into Ella's arms.

"What in the world-" Ella asked, stroking the sobbing child's hair. Hansel swallowed, looking to Lacey in question.

Before she could speak, they heard a thin cold voice call out, "Cinderella? What is that dreadful racket?"

"Shush, shush," Ella crooned, glancing anxiously at the door. Footsteps approached, the swishing of skirts growing louder and louder. Gretel had finally stopped sobbing and was now hiccuping into Ella's chest. Ella looked to Lacey with a panicked look in her eye. "If she finds you," she began but Lacey didn't give her the chance to finish.

"Get inside there," Lacey ordered Hansel, plucking him out of his seat. "Keep her calm and quiet, do you understand?" Nodding, the boy collected his sister into his own arms, disappearing into the pantry. The heavy door covered the sound of quiet sobs but only barely.

Ella motioned for her to join them but Lacey shook her head. "She heard someone screaming," she whispered. "And I doubt she'll believe it was you."

Ella gaped at her but before she could say another word, the door swung open. A woman nearly six feet tall swooped into the kitchen and peered through crow-lined grey blue eyes in distaste at the two of them.

"Who is this?" she demanded of Ella. "Why is she here?"

"My apologies, Stepmother," Ella said softly. "But you had asked me to find a girl to help out for the Ball, remember?"

The cold eyes swung to Lacey, narrowed in distaste. "She's filthy," the lady drawled.

"Bandits," Lacey coughed, sinking into a curtsy she remembered the maids from Eric's castle had always done. "I got away but-"

"And the screaming?"

Lacey blinked at the floor. For a moment, her mouth hung open as her brain went blank but then it came to her.

"There was a mouse," she said, straightening. "I saw a mouse…"

"Oh," the woman sighed, glancing at her stepdaughter. "Cinderella's little pets. I'll send Lucifer in here this afternoon to go hunting."

"Yes, Stepmother," Ella responded dutifully, eyes flickering to the half eaten cheese and bread on the table. Lacey caught the motion and stepped in front of her, blocking it from the mistress's view.

"Hmm," the woman considered them for a moment. "Bring breakfast to the morning room," she ordered. "And make sure she's washed and trained before supper. I wouldn't want to upset the girls."

"Of course, Stepmother," Ella replied. "Thank you."

The woman left, sparing one last searching look at Lacey before she disappeared. "Oh thank goodness," Ella sighed, collapsing against the wall. She lifted a shaking hand to her forehead. "I'm sorry, I was just so worried...Oh," she paused, blinking as if something had just occurred to her. " I don't even know your name."

"Belle," Lacey supplied, the name familiar on her tongue now. She went to the pantry, pulling it open to find the children had fallen asleep, curled around each other. "I think they're good for a while," she said, closing the door. "Now about that bath?"

"Belle?"

Lacey paused in her sweeping, turning to find Ella had returned from outside. "Everything work out?" she asked, returning to her work. "Did you give them the amulet?

Ella moved to the countertops, starting to go through the various cheeses and wines the children had helped unload from the wagon. "They're gone," Ella told her. "Should be at the market by end of the week. And yes, I made sure Hansel had the amulet, told him to keep it close at all times."

"Good," Lacey said stiffly. At least she knew the kids would be safe from any animals in the woods, if nothing else. "By the way, those horrible bells were jingling like they were possessed a few minutes ago."

"They'll be finished with tea," Ella explained. "I'll go get the cart shortly."

"I can put that away," Lacey offered, moving her pile of dirt closer to the back door. "I saw the wine cellar when I was coming in."

"You know much about wine?" Ellas asked inquisitively.

Lacey smiled, moving to join the other woman. She picked up a large bottle, dark red and thick liquid moving slowly inside. "A bit," she said, fingers tracing another bottle of light white, shining pearly in the afternoon sun.

The children had slept all through the morning. Long enough for Ella to serve and clean up breakfast and find Lacey something to wear. Her few outfits were covered in ash and had stains or burns on the sleeves. Ella had unearthed a printed bodice and a matching skirt. An old dress of her mother's, Ella had explained. It fit fine;, if it was just a little too long, the four or five petticoats Ella had forced on her took care of that.

"You know," Ella started but Lacey shook her head.

"I don't want to talk about it," Lacey said curtly. "They're on their way back to their father and that's all that matters."

Ella nodded. For a moment, the two of them stood side by side, their full skirts rustling against each other. Ella had been able to salvage Lacey's slippers. They were drying by the fireplace next to Ella's, which were permanently black with soot like the rest of her things.

One of the various bells over the fireplace began to ring frantically and Ella cleared her throat, pushing away from the counter. "If you don't mind putting the wine up, the cheese can go in the larder."

Happy to be alone for a moment, Lacey gathered the wine bottles into a basket and headed back outside. The autumn afternoon was beautiful but crisp, and her borrowed gown was thin cotton. Hurrying, she found the small storm cellar, a cluster of grapes painted whimsically on the wood doors.

The stores were low. It took Lacey barely any time to put the wine up, before browsing the rest of the shelves curiously. Her eyes lingered on some opaque bottles, tucked away in the back near what looked like champagne before she headed back to the kitchen. Ella had not returned so she put the cheese away, noticing the almost bare shelves of the larder.

Ella had returned with the tea tray by the time Lacey had returned to the main kitchen area, cheeks flushed. When she caught Lacey's eye, she turned hurriedly back to the sink where her elbows were in sudsy water. Nearby, a pail from the well outside was still half full with water.

"All done?" Ella asked, a forced note of brightness in her voice.

"Yes," Lacey said slowly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Ella chirped, brushing her face with her forearm. "I just-"

Lacey moved to her other side, catching the tear-filled eyes before Ella could blink them away. Momentarily stunned, Lacey simply stood beside the sink, watching the other woman as she continued to scrub the tea things.

Without a word, she held out her hand for the next clean cup, pulling the towel from Ella's arm and began to dry the delicate cup. It was simpler than the tea things at the Dark Castle but Lacey was more careful with it. She doubted the woman she had met earlier would be as dismissive of broken crockery as the Imp had been. The time passed in silence and before long, they were done. Ella smiled weakly over at her, shaking her head as she began to clean up the suds in the sink. "Want to talk about it?" Lacey asked finally. "Or?"

Ella shrugged one shoulder, shaking her head. "It's silly," she said faintly. "I don't know why I'm even upset."

Lacey didn't press. She simply stood there, waiting. She knew Ella had other chores to attend to, but something in the way the other woman lingered suggested she wanted to talk. The bells hung slightly, but they added a feeling of anticipation in the air.

"The Royal Ball starts tonight," Ella finally said. Lacey nodded, remembering the words from earlier. "All eligible women in the kingdom are invited," Ella continued, standing over the sink. Her hands, pink from the harsh soap and cold water, flexed at the edges as if holding herself up. "I thought if I got all the chores done…"

Lacey began to ask how Ella would be considered eligible, being a kitchenmaid but fell silent. From everything so far, Ella seemed a smart and capable woman, hardworking if not annoyingly optimistic. Plus, she did keep referring to the mistress of the estate as stepmother, which Lacey had assumed was a preferred title, but was now wondering if that was true.

"I can help with that," Lacey offered quickly. She wasn't much for housework but she owed this woman and they both knew it. Hansel and Gretel were on their way back to their father and Lacey had a safe place to wait until the Imp decided to show up when he felt like it. A few days of playing maid were not going to hurt anything other than her pride and perhaps her knees.

Ella shook her head. "She wants me to clean out the barn, wash the windows and polish all the silverware as well as serve dinner and help the three of them get ready." Ella sighed, pushing herself from the counter as she turned back to the kitchen, preparing to get to work. "I couldn't do half of that before tomorrow night, much less tonight."

Flashes of candlelit ballrooms and a prince in search of a bride made Lacey smile. "So, three nights for the prince to find a bride is it?"

"Exactly," Ella confirmed, grabbing the water pail. "I've been working on my dress for weeks…"

Lacey had never been one of the girls. She had never enjoyed sleepovers. She preferred to order things online rather than go to the mall in a gaggle. She had never accepted a brunch request or done a girl's night out but she knew the answer to this unspoken question.

"Can I see it?"

Standing in front of the ancient dressform, Lacey tried to find the correct words.

"It's uh...lovely," she finally said. Beside her, Ella was beaming, scrubbed pink hands reaching out to delicately touch the white lace that scooped across the shoulders and dangled like half sleeves.

"Maybe I'll get to wear it on the last night," Ella said hopefully, stepping back. "I finished it just this morning. I saw you all from the window."

Standing in the airless attic, which seemed to serve as a hideaway for Ella when the kitchen became too much, Lacey privately thought perhaps it was for the best her Stepmother had managed to prevent Ella from attending the ball.

The cream blue fabric was obviously handsewn, a large white panel that looked like a white braided tablecloth went down the middle like an apron with blue ruffles framing it. The bodice ended in a sharp point as if the fabric had run out, and a lopsided blue rose dangled from the middle of the lace.

Despite not knowing much about the First Kingdom, Lacey felt fairly certain that this getup would not have been well tolerated at any court. Still.

"Okay," Lacey said, clapping her hands together. "I have no idea how to clean out a barn but I can polish silver and possibly even learn how to wash windows. Let's see between us what we can do."

Ella opened her mouth to argue but then a small smile began to creep across her face. "Okay," she agreed, fingers reaching out to trace her hard work one last time. "Let's get to work."

"I'm dying," Lacey moaned, sinking her head onto the counter. "If I ever see another piece of silverware again-"

Ella laughed, cheeks bright with exertion as she rushed to finish preparing the ham. "I can't believe we did it!" She laughed, whirling around the kitchen, skirts twirling around her. "You're a blessing, Belle!"

"Yes, well," Lacey groaned, shifting her aching muscles. Ella had helped clean out her cuts earlier that morning, bandaging them gently but all the activity of the day meant her entire body now ached like one giant nerve. "I try."

"Oh, I almost forgot your hair," Ella exclaimed, hurrying over.

"What's wrong with my hair?" Lacey demanded, reaching up to touch it. "It's a little dirty but-"

Ella laughed, tugging at her own hair which still had soot clinging to the black curls. "We need to put it down," she explained, tugging at the few remaining bindings that had kept it pinned to her head. "Only noble ladies wear their hair up in the First Kingdom."

"You're kidding," Lacey said, combing her hair with her fingers as Ella moved back to the dinner cart.

"Stepmother is very particular about that sort of thing," Ella said knowingly, toying with her own hair.

The bells over the mantle had been silent during the afternoon as the ladies of the house were asleep. Ella cast a glance at them before she began to prepare the vegetables, slicing them as she hummed a small tune under her breath. Lacey watched, having already been told to sit and rest.

"So, Ella," Lacey asked. "What's the deal with Stepmother, anyway?"

Ella didn't pause in her chopping. She simply let a small sigh escape her. "My mother died when I was very young," she shared. "My father remarried right away, so I would have a mother, you see," Ella said quickly. Lacey nodded approvingly, realizing it must be very important to Ella that Lacey think highly of her father. She understood that need. "He married Lady Tremaine and she and her daughters came to live with us and then…"

"I'm sorry," Lacey mumbled, realizing too late what she had just drudged up from the past. "I thought it was just what she asked you to call her."

Ella moved the vegetables expertly to a pan, adding butter and some spices and moving it to the fire. "She let me stay," Ella explained. "I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't."

Lacey wondered if Ella realized how much bullshit that actually was. It was glaringly obvious that the estate was broke, barely hanging on to the luxury it had once enjoyed and the true daughter of the household was down in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning.

By the time dinner was served, Lacey was incredibly interested in the women of the house. She followed Ella into the dining hall, finding the tall woman from earlier seated at the head of the table, cool eyes watching them as they wheeled in the cart.

"You're late," Lady Tremaine said dismissively. "I was about to ring for you for the third time today."

"Sorry, Stepmother," Ella said calmly, starting to move dishes to the table. Lacey had helped her set places earlier, and she glanced over to find two women older than Ella staring at her in frank amusement.

Once Ella had finished, she moved back to Lacey's side. "Stepmother," she said politely. "I would like to introduce Belle."

"Charmed," Lacey intoned, sinking into a half curtsy. When she looked back up, the two spinsters were cackling.

"Why, Cinderella," the dark-haired one laughed. "She's even more bedraggled than you are!"

"Yes," the red-headed one giggled. "Where did you find her? The bottom of the well?"

Her hands clenched into fists at her side and she almost moved forward when Ella clasped her right hand in hers and squeezed a silent warning.

"Drizella, Anastasia," her mother snapped. "Manners. Not everyone is as fortunate as we are."

"Yes, Mother," they chimed, both staring at the two maids against the wall and smirking.

Dinner went quickly after that. The three were more interested in getting back upstairs to get ready than to actually eat. When they left the table, half the food was still sitting there, untouched.

"Now, then," Ella said, sweeping everything back onto the cart. "Breakfast will be a breeze tomorrow."

"Why do you let them call you that?" Lacey demanded, grabbing plates off the table. "Cinderella? That's not even clever!"

Ella ignored her, pushing the cart quickly back to the kitchen, a song already back on her lips. "Better clean these in case she double-checks before we leave."

"I can do that," Lacey sighed, pushing the long sleeves of her bodice back. Ella however shook her head.

"No, I've done them all my life, it'll take me half a minute. Oh, I wish you knew how to do up corsets."

It had been rather embarrassing earlier, having to ask Ella to help her with the lacings and bindings that made up the increasingly complicated undergarments of this kingdom. Lacey desperately missed bras.

The bells over the fireplace began to chime, and Ella looked distressed. "That'll be to do their hair," she explained, taking her apron off and hurrying towards the door. "Stepmother does her own but-"

"I can do hair," Lacey offered quickly. "I've done mine all my life. How hard can it be?"

* * *

_And just like that we are in the First Kingdom. I hope everyone enjoyed Hansel &amp; Gretel's storyline and is excited about the upcoming arc with Miss Ella. Don't fret, we may have said goodbye to the siblings but Robin will be back shortly. As will another certain face that's been out of the picture for a few chapters now._

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed last update. It meant the world to see people so intrigued by this story and I'm grateful to each and every one of you. Thanks to ramloth for editing!_

_The mood board for this chapter can be found as always here: post/135815757177/a-modern-portrait-of-sally-hemings-ellas_


	23. Chapter 23

Two hours past dinner, and all Ella's stepsisters had discussed so far was the ball, who was wearing what, and the crown prince, completely ignoring Ella or Lacey and their attempts to beautify them. Attempts being the key word. Twisting another curl into place while juggling pins, Lacey resisted a very real urge to stab the pin straight into the red-headed twit's scalp as she twisted her head to talk to her sister.

"Do you think he'll will be very handsome?" Anastasia asked in her nasally voice. Wearing a silk green nightmare with pleated sleeves and a five tier frilled skirt, Anastasia looked like someone's drapes.

"Duh, stupid," Drizella retorted in her high-pitched whine. Ella stood silently over her, placing a green headband perfectly into place. It did little to accentuate the matching tiered dress her sister also wore. The only difference was Drizella's dress being red instead of green. "He's the prince. There's no such thing as an ugly prince." Picturing some of the less than appealing noble men she had seen at the Seventh Kingdom ball, Lacey struggled to keep her mouth wisely closed.

Ella meanwhile had a faraway look in her eyes as she thoughtfully added, "I wonder if he's kind…"

"Kind?" Anastasia brayed, pitching forward in a peal of laughter. Lacey gasped in outrage as the ringlet of curls she had been placing at the crown of Anastasia's head bounced apart and separated. The pin in her hand started to look increasingly deadly. "He's rich! Who cares if he's kind?"

"Honestly, Cinderella," Drizella snorted. "What are you thinking?"

Ella chuckled weakly, catching Lacey's eyes and looking back down. Lacey shook her own head, returning to teasing out the crown, still entertaining idea of taking out the scissors and giving the idiot a haircut. Ella seemed unfazed by all the chatter. After a moment of rearranging Drizella's curls, she stepped back from her stepsister. "There you are, all finished," she said warmly. "You look lovely."

Drizella bounced up, hurrying over to the mirror in the corner and admiring herself. "I do, don't I," she said to her own reflection. She was so taken by her updo, she completely forgot to insult Ella's handiwork. She plopped down and began to rub lotions and rouges onto her skin, although Lacey doubted anything would make the snout-nosed and lantern jaw face look anything less than interesting.

Anastasia grew restless underneath her, twisting around to demand, "What's taking so long?"

"You keep moving!" Lacey shot back, only to find Ella inserting herself smoothly between them.

"I'll finish," she said, shooting her a warning glance over Anastasia's head. "Drizella is nearly done, perhaps you could check on Lady Tremaine?"

"Mother said she isn't to be bothered," Drizella said, pouting at herself as she applied a heavy rouge to her lips and cheeks. "We helped her get dressed after dinner."

Sensing her chance to escape from primping hell, Lacey chimed in, "I'll just go start cleaning the kitchen then."

She left the three stepsisters, breathing a sigh of relief when she closed the door behind her. Dim-witted and cruelty were a terrible combination but the two in there had them both in spades. Nearing the staircase, Lacey passed the large master suite, knowing the lady of the house was behind the doors. She paused, turning back towards the daughters' room and wondering how Ella had let herself be bullied and forced into a life of servitude, grinning and bearing it.

"I would have poisoned the food by now," Lacey murmured to herself as she went down the stairs. "Done the whole world a favor."

"How do I look?"

Beaming, Ella twirled, the full skirts of her creation drifting out and floating back down like clouds. A small choker of double stranded pearls sat on the her neck, showing off her exposed shoulders beautifully. The blue and white color palette accentuated Ella's tawny skin beautifully. She positively glowed.

"Lovely," Lacey assured her. Despite the obviously homemade gown, Ella's natural elegance outshone the cheap fabrics. There was one small issue though, Ella's black stained slippers peeked ever so slightly from under the hem. "Don't you have any other shoes?" Lacey asked, pointing at them.

"No," Ella frowned down at her feet. "Mother had smaller feet than I do."

Lacey remembering noticing that on their meeting, pulled at the hem to see better. Ella obliged, helpfully kicking out a foot which while delicately boned was impressively large.

"Ella," Lacey laughed, catching it with her free hand. "This has got to be a size eleven!"

Ella giggling, took her foot back. "What's a size eleven mean?"

"Nothing," Lacey said, dropping her dress hem back into place. "Just something we say back in the good ole Fourth Kingdom."

"Father was tall. I remember mother and I were both able to stand in his footprint," Ella said with a self-aware smile. It faded slightly as she added, "Stepmother always said I'm much too large for a proper lady."

Lacey disagreed. Lady Tremaine was tall but there was definitely some assistance from heels. Ella stood nearly five foot eleven with just her stocking feet, a good nine inches taller than Lacey.

In the living room, the large grandfather clock struck doors from upstairs swung open, giddy laughter and heels spilling down the staircase. Ella's smile did not falter but she looked slightly less sure of herself, fingers toying with the pearls at her neck as if to find courage there.

"Go have fun," Lacey encouraged. Not entirely altruistically, she was already eagerly looking forward to taking a well deserved nap after the rigors of the day. Her body still ached and a headache had formed sometime while dressing Ella's stepsisters. Ella smiled at her, reaching out to touch her shoulder in silent thanks before disappearing into the foyer.

Lacey lingered for a moment in the open archway, expecting some kind of surprised reactions and hoping to catch just a glimpse of the ladies of the house when confronted with their failure to keep Ella home.

"Cinderella," Lady Tremaine's steady voice greeted in amused surprise. "Whatever are you doing, child?"

Lacey peered around the corner. Ella stood in the center of the foyer, her stepsisters behind their mother as the three of them blocked the doorway. Lacey could not see Ella's face but her shoulders were tense and her hands clasped in front of her. "I finished all the chores, Stepmother," Ella explained hopefully. "I thought-"

"Oh?" Lady Tremaine responded dryly. "Why, I couldn't begin to fathom allowing you to go to the ball dressed like that. The other guests would ridicule you; you know people can be so cruel. Honestly, dear, what kind of mother would I be if I let you out of the house in that?"

"But-" Ella began but Lacey saw Anastasia and Drizella exchange looks. Then, Drizella strode forward so suddenly, she nearly knocked her own mother over.

"This my old lace shawl!" She accused, taking a handful of the delicate material and tearing it off the dress. Lacey had already stepped out around the arch, heading towards the trio before she caught herself and ducked behind a large cabinet. Ella would not forgive her for witnessing this.

"It was ripped," Ella reminded her, voice wavering. "You...you told me to get rid of it. I didn't think you'd mind." Ella was barely holding the remaining lace up, as Drizella stood before her, trophy in hand.

Anastasia joined them, declaring, "Why, this is my old nightgown!" She tore at the skirt's white counterpart. "You said you couldn't get the stains out!"

"Girls," Lady Tremaine said authoritatively and both of them moved aside. With slow, decisive steps, Lady Tremaine came to stand before Ella, their eyes level with each other. "You wouldn't begrudge your step-sister your hand me downs, would you?"

The daughters looked at each other, uncertainly. Lady Tremaine tsked at them before turning back to Ella. For a moment, she seemed to consider her step-daughter, then she let out an exaggerated sound of distress. "My dear Ella," Lady Tremaine murmured. "Surely those aren't the family pearls?"

"They were my mother's," Ella confirmed, so softly that Lacey had to strain to hear her. It was the wrong thing to admit. Lady Tremaine's entire face lit up as she moved in for the kill.

"And then they were given to me by your father," Lady Tremaine declared. "I had thought them stolen by one of the old staff members. I never considered you could have done such a thing."

Ella tried to speak, but Lady Tremaine continued over her. "You are lucky I don't call the Sheriff this instant and report you for theft." Lacey's hands curled into fists, the scratches on her arms aching as her entire body vibrated in rage. Ella had kept those pearls in her small hope chest in the attic, carefully wrapped in ribbon until the day she could wear them. Lady Tremaine had even seen them before.

"Return them to my rooms at once. I'll look the other way, this once. But I expect you to clean my and the girls rooms and have breakfast awaiting us upon our return in the morning," Lady Tremaine decided, the threat evident despite her casual tone. "And I will not tolerate any more nonsense about attending balls, Cinderella."

"Yes, Stepmother," Ella whispered. Lacey closed her eyes as she leaned her head against the wall behind her. She stayed there until the door closed, and the sounds of horses trotting off into the night signalled the stepmonsters had left.

Moments later, Ella, barely managing to hold her ripped dress together, sank heartbroken onto the floor, trying and failing to hold back her sobs. Lacey stepped out of the shadows, uncertain and unsure. When Ella looked up and saw her, she tried to silence herself, even attempting to stand up but Lacey didn't allow it. Sinking down beside her, Lacey wrapped her own arms around the other woman as best she could and silently willed her to know it would be okay.

At the awkward embrace, Ella sobbed harder, reaching out to wrap her own arms around Lacey, burying her head in her mother's old dress. The other woman had not cried for years, she had lived in the fire and she did know she could. Now, after years of dry eyes, she loosened a flood from behind a great dam. Lacey let her, patting her hair as reassuringly as she could and while it was somewhat stilted, she thought perhaps it might be of some comfort.

She had seen a father's love often in this world. Fierce and devoted, slightly unsure but desperate to do their best. Lacey only remembered her own mother faintly. So, despite not knowing Ella for longer than a few hours, she held her and hoped that would be enough.

"I'm sorry," Ella hiccuped after a moment. "Oh, Belle, what an idiot you must think I am."

"Stop it," Lacey ordered, helping the other woman stand. "If you apologize after what they just did, I'll smack you." Ella, taken aback, mumbled something incoherent but Lacey didn't back down. "Honestly, Ella," Lacey continued in disbelief. "How could you stay here and let them treat you like this?"

Ella flushed. "I'm not like you, Belle," she shot back. "I can't just run out into the world on my own. This is my family's home. My parents are buried by the forest, I have a responsibility here-"

"You're being abused and mistreated," Lacey pointed out. "And you're allowing it!"

"I'm surviving it," Ella yelled back, eyes wide. "Every hour that goes by on my hands and knees, every time they call me Cinderella, every day I wake up in the ashes of the fireplace, I keep living. I'm defying them, I'm surviving them! And when you're gone, I'll keep on surviving them. So don't tell me how to live my life, Belle. Don't you dare." Ella breathing heavy, turned away from her. "I'm going to go clean up."

"Fine," Lacey replied, her mouth dry. Determined to hide her stunned expression, she turned on her own heel and marched out the front door. She'd go to the wine cellar, find the most expensive thing she could find and drink until the Imp got around to collecting her. If Ella wanted to live her life like this, fine by her.

As soon as the cool night air greeted her, Lacey's anger evaporated. She collapsed onto the stairs of the porch, fuming as she tried to think of a way to convince Ella to come with her. Perhaps the Imp needed a maid, Lacey mused. Anything was better than this place.

"Oh, you poor dear…" Looking up from her knees, Lacey found a very plump, white haired fairy floating directly in front of her. Eyes wide, she opened her mouth to reply when the fairy squeaked and fluttered backwards. "You're not Ella!" She chirped, and a moment later, a full-sized short and squat little woman stared up at her from the drive.

"You're a fairy," Lacey realized, standing up and moving down the stairs. "I've met one of you before."

"That's nice, dear," the fairy said, not paying any attention to her at all. Her eyes were on the door. "I was looking for Ella Tremaine."

"She's inside," Lacey said, crossing her arms. The fairy did not look terribly threatening but Lacey had grown wary of magical creatures in particular. "What exactly do you want with her?"

"Oh, my," the grandmotherly fairy uttered, hand fluttering at her breast. "And who are you then?"

"Name's Belle," Lacey lied smoothly. "I'm a friend of Ella's."

"Oh, no one told me about you," the fairy worried, peering up at her. "I'm here to send Ella to the ball and this is not at all how things are supposed to go. She was supposed to be out here waiting for me. You know, her mother and father were one of my better happily ever afters-"

"You're a fairy godmother?" Lacey said, remembering the ridiculous term from one of the Dark Castle books. "Ella's fairy godmother?"

"Why, yes!" The fairy exclaimed cheerfully, beaming. "Now, if you could just-"

Lacey did not get to find out what she needed to do before she could finish, the fairy exploded into a thousand different pieces of light and magic, blasting Lacey backwards onto the steps. An object fell on her and she reached up to find the fairy's magic wand.

"My, my, this is unexpected!"

Lacey used her elbows to push herself off the stairs, finding herself staring slack-jawed at the Imp. "You!" Lacey exploded, struggling to her feet. "It's about goddamn time!"

"Me!" the Imp huffed, motioning to her in an overly flamboyant series of gestures. "What are you doing here?"

Lacey paused, staring at him in confusion. "I've been waiting for you," she told him briskly. "Aren't you here for me?"

"Mm," the Imp murmured, cocking his head at her. "As it happens, no." He frowned at her, moving his head back and forth as if in the middle of an internal debate. "This is rather awkward."

"What are you doing here then?" Lacey demanded. "I thought-"

"Belle?" came Ella's voice from inside. "Are you out there?"

"Never mind," Lacey swore, turning back to the Imp who looked curiously up at the closed door. "You just blew away Ella's fairy godmother!"

"I'm aware," the Imp snickered. Wriggling his shoulders proudly as he glanced about at the last few floating light particles. "I did tell you I had some business to attend to in the First Kingdom."

"Unbelievable," Lacey groaned. "You would ruin her one shot at getting out of this hellhole."

"I don't know what you're referring to," the Imp grumbled, scrunching his nose up at her. "But if you could just give me the wand…"

The rod in her hand had a pleasant warmth radiating from it. A smile curved on her face as footsteps from the house approached the door.

"You want this?" She rather enjoyed the dawning look of horror on the Imp's face. "Let's make a deal."

Before he could respond, Ella had joined them outside, pausing in the doorway as she stared down at the odd pair facing off in her drive. Her clothes hung off her in tatters and at the sight of the odd creature in her front yard, her hands fluttered back to hold her dress up. "Belle?" she asked nervously, lingering in the doorway. "What's going on?"

"Ella! This," Lacey said with relish, holding the wand jauntily in her hand, "is your fairy godmother."

"Charmed," the Imp growled, eyes flashing at Lacey. He neither disappeared nor tried to magically or physically strip the wand from her; she had won this round. He was awaiting the deal's requirements, seemingly willing to pay the price for the trinket for which he had just killed.

"But I thought all fairies were..." Ella's sentence drifted off as she moved down the stairs to join fact of his gender and overall wicked appearance were left unspoken.

Lacey moved to the Imp's side, digging the magic wand into his ribs. "She'll go to the ball for three nights as befits her birthright. Also her stepmother is atrocious, how about-"

"Careful," the Imp snapped. Ella paused in coming down the stairs, assuming he was talking to her but Lacey understood him perfectly.

"Fine, three nights at the ball as a proper lady," she whispered, handing the Imp the wand behind his back. "And no funny stuff."

His entire manner switched in an instant as he swept into a deep bow. The wand sparked in his hand, and he shot them both a particular dastardly grin as he straightened. "Ella," he greeted. "I'm here to send you to the ball!"

"Oh," Ella managed, gazing in some doubt at the very un-fairy like creature. "But I-"

"Best be getting on with it," the Imp declared helpfully. "Time is ticking."

With glee, he aimed the wand at Ella. With a masterful flourish, he produced a stream of light that enveloped Ella, glowing bright white before fading away into the night. Where home sewn and ripped fabric had once sat oddly on Ella's tall form, there was now gleaming silk beautifully patterned in creams, pale blues and whites.

Ella clasped her hands to her mouth. Tears filled her eyes as she twirled around, taking in the beauty of the Imp's creation. The bodice was layers of embroidered lace, tulle and silk ribbons where Drizella's old lace shawl had been and the full skirt was properly supported by what looked like a proper crinoline frame, similar to the ones her stepsisters had worn underneath their gowns.

"Let's see the shoes," Lacey requested, unable to help the smile on her face. The Imp looked askance at her but she ignored him. She was allowed to be pleasant. Just not to him.

Ella pulled up her hem carefully, trying to glance down at her shoes and failing miserably. Lacey however murmured appreciatively as the light caught silver, moving closer to get a better look at them. "Wait, they look like glass," she exclaimed when she bent down before Ella. She turned to the Imp. "Are these glass slippers?"

The Imp shrugged innocently, black teeth exposed as his lips pulled back into a roguish smile. "Needed something memorable," he remarked boldly. "Also, a reminder to tread carefully."

"Thank you," Ella breathed, moving past where Lacey stood to stand before her supposed fairy godmother. She seemed unconcerned that she was walking on extremely breakable and impracticable footwear. "You don't know what this means to me."

"I don't," he agreed, dwarfed by Ella's tall frame. Lacey enjoyed the height difference immensely, having not realized how truly short the Imp was in her previous deals with him. She crossed her arms and smirked back at him. Her grin faded however when he smiled back at her. "Now, let's see what we can do about a suitable entourage for a lady, hmm?"

Minutes later, a pumpkin had been transformed into a coach, field mice had become a regal but jittery team of horses, a goose stood awkwardly as a coachman on the back of the golden carriage and a lizard was now a green livery driver, tongue darting out occasionally as insects buzzed by. Ella watched all of this in utter delight, while Lacey stood behind her, eyes rolling at the Imp's ridiculousness.

"Now!" The Imp declared, turning to them both. He had a maniacal grin on his sharp features, the use of magic obviously exhilarating to not only Ella but to him as well. Lacey wondered briefly if it had been a mistake to give him the wand, but regretted the thought as Ella bounced towards the carriage, hope and happy disbelief shining from her upturned face. "There are some rules."

Ella stilled, nodding solemnly as she stood beside her pumpkin carriage. "Number one," the Imp declared. "The spells are just for the night. At midnight, the spell will unravel."

Unsure if her increasing desire to do bodily harm to people was because she was tired, sore and mentally drained or if it was just her luck to continue running into terrible people, Lacey buried her fists into her skirts. The Imp clearly enjoyed taking advantage of that particular loophole in their deal.

"Number two," he continued dramatically. "You'll have to be standing in the drive just as the two moons meet in the sky for the spell to take effect." Ella nodded, glancing up at the waning and waxing orbs, barely touching as they crossed paths in the sky.

Lacey was too busy staring up at them, still unused to the idea of two moons when she felt the rush of magic swirl around her, tugging insistently. "Hey!" she yelped, twisting and turning as she felt things being pulled, plucked, and pinched.

"Number three is more of a gift than a guideline," the Imp finished mischievously. "Your friend here will accompany you. After all, how better to learn to be a lady than to accompany a princess?"

"Belle," Ella exclaimed. "You didn't tell me you're a princess!"

"Now, wait just a minute," Lacey began furiously. She was fully prepared to demand he send her back to the Dark Castle for some well needed rest and relaxation. She had gotten his vile little Blind Witch hair, helped distract the Fairy Godmother and she hated to admit it, but she wanted to be back in the relative safety of the castle. Deals be damned.

Just before she could incriminate herself in front of Ella, she caught herself. If the children's reaction when they had learned she worked for Lešak was any indication, she could not afford to alert Ella to the truth of her fairy godmother's identity. Ella deserved this chance, no matter if it was given to her by a homicidal lunatic or by a fairy.

Ella stared at her in shock, as the Imp wiggled his brows at her in silent invitation for her to continue her protests. He had just condemned her to three more days as a maid in this crazy house as well as committing her to all nights of the ball. Lacey wanted to rip his horrid little head clean off his shoulders. All hopes of hot tea and warm baths were gone.

Gritting her teeth into a smile, Lacey nodded. At that moment, she felt the weight of a tiara against her temples. Reaching up to straighten it, she felt a set of familiar grooves and jewels, impossible considering she had lost the only tiara she had ever known at sea. Forgetting all about her hair, she plucked it down, holding it in front of her under the moonlight.

It was, in fact, Emma's tiara. The gems and delicate filigrees winked up at her in greeting. Lacey felt a catch in her throat, swallowing hard as she gently placed it back in her hair as she willed herself not to cry. Ella still seemed at a loss, staring at her in disbelief while the Imp looked off into the night as if he was terribly bored.

She had no idea what his ploy was but he wanted her out of the way for a bit longer it seemed. The return of Emma's tiara, unnecessarily thoughtful, almost, almost made her break her vow to never say thank you to the madman that had jailed her for nearly two months. Mercifully, Ella's ball was waiting so Lacey said nothing at all and joined her at their carriage.

"Let's get going," she told Ella, seating herself in the carriage. The goose squawked at her unladylike behavior while Ella lingered outside to thank the Imp once more.

"What about my family?" she asked. "They'll be at the castle tonight."

"It's taken care of," the Imp assured her. "If they happen to see you at all, they'll simply see a princess and a lady enjoying the ball."

"All right," Ella murmured. "I suppose-"

"Go on, dearie," he hurried her back towards the carriage. "Tick Tock! Remember, when the clock strikes midnight, everything will go back to being as it was!"

With the aid of the goose coachman, Ella was soon settled in beside Lacey and the coach jolted off towards the palace. Lacey watched as the forests rolled by as they left Ella's lands. The Imp's magic had closed the scratches on her arms, her fingers no longer smelled of polish or lye and even Ella's usual soot stained hair had been powdered and cleansed. Lacey hated to admit it, but the Imp had been thorough in his dealings.

The horses' clipping and clopping and snorts, and the sound of the wheels on the ground were the only noise in the carriage for a while but Lacey could feel Ella's eyes on her. "Go ahead," she finally sighed. "Get it out."

Lacey awaited a million questions, but Ella as usual surprised her. "You look beautiful," she said, smiling broadly at her. Lacey personally found the hunter green off-the-shoulder gown plain, already finding the tulle around the sleeves vastly distracting. " I feel rather stupid. I should have known you were royalty. No farm girl doesn't know how to polish silverware."

Shrugging, Lacey gave herself over to once again being Princess Belle. She had enjoyed being just regular Belle but apparently the Imp had other plans. She just wished she knew what they were. He had been as surprised to see her as she was to see him which did not bode well for her safety in general.

"It's a long story," Lacey sighed, fingers absently reaching up to touch Emma's tiara once more, feeling comforted by it. Ella thankfully dropped the subject. Still, from time to time, Lacey caught her staring at her from the corner of her eye.

In what felt like no time at all, they felt the carriage begin to slow. Ella poked her head out of the window of the carriage, risking her perfectly coiffed hair, but when she ducked back inside, not a dark hair was out of place. Her brown eyes sparkled as her cheeks flushed charmingly, brows lifting as her eyes widened in anticipation.

"We're here!" she whispered, excitement and nervousness at war on her face. Lacey sighed, sitting back and watching as they passed through the castle gates, lanterns starting to slowly roll by as they neared the castle' entrance.

She wondered briefly how Ariel was doing, and then the carriage door burst open and the sounds of a ball filled the carriage. Ella held out her hand to the liveryman, allowing him to gracefully pull her from the carriage. She did not look back, and as Lacey joined her at the foot of the stairs, she wondered if Ella realized how much of a lady she truly was.

Standing tall, her shoulders gleaming in the candlelight, Ella looked every inch a princess. Lacey felt short and rather awkward beside the dark beauty and she reminded herself to hold her head straight as they began the climb up the stairs of the castle.

Another night without sleep, Lacey thought miserably to herself as the fanfare announced them.

She barely managed to stifle her yawn as they disappeared into the castle proper.

* * *

And we're off! Back to a ball, because this is Fae and what fun would it be without a ball? Also, I'm guilty of loving ball scenes. No new characters this week but next week, we'll meet a kindred spirit at the ball.

Hope you all are enjoying Ella's story, I've rather enjoyed fleshing out the Cinderella tale and I hope it shows. Plus, Imp as Fairy Godmother scene is one of my favorite canon moments and I couldn't pass it up here. We haven't seen him in a bit but now everyone knows where he is and what he's up to, and keeping Lacey with Ella is all part of his plan. (The new improved plan, the one had had to improvise when he learned she was with Ella instead of in the Impossible Forest where he left her.)

Thanks to ramloth for editing!

Inspiration Board for this Chapter: post/136226382682/gowns-of-the-gate-chapter-23


	24. Chapter 24

The castle was expansive, nearly spanning the entire landscape of the grounds and nestled perfectly against the mountains looming in the distance. Gazing up at it from the drive, the two women took in all in silently. The projecting wings on either side of the entrance tower were nearly double the size of the main wing itself. The castle had steeply pitched roofs, tall turrets and sculptural ornamentation gaudily perched on every available space of the castle. Everywhere they looked there was an added rose, gargoyle or statute and in the distance, a staircase with a winding balustrade wound around the outside of the east wing. It was a masterpiece of style and size.

Unlike the castle in the Seventh Kingdom, there was no grand staircase at the front to greet them, only a simple arched doorway which led into a marbled entrance hall. Ella reached out to trace her hand across the cool stone, as if making sure it was real.

No one was waiting there to greet them. Ella looked around, looking uneasy at the silence of the grand hall. "It's fine. We're just late," Lacey whispered to Ella as she glanced around. There were soaring limestone arches in every direction; Lacey paused, uncertain which way to go but not wanting Ella to notice her uncertainty. From all sides, they could hear distant music and laughter, the gentle rise and fall of conversation and the rich smells of food and drink.

Ahead of them, the reception hall stretched further but it was empty other than one or two guards standing stoically along the walls. Lacey turned towards a blast of warm air, moving forward confidently as could muster towards the closest arch. She heard Ella carefully walking behind her. The measured click clack of the glass slippers reminded Lacey to walk slowly.

Ella shot her a grateful look as she joined her and moving together, they entered an indoor garden. With a murmur of wonder, Ella brushed past Lacey who stood perplexed looking around the giant garden. A glass roof illuminated with the twin moons and the night stars glowed down onto a center fountain, bubbling gently in the silence of the room. From the other side of the room, more open arches lining the entire greenhouse, they could hear the now louder sounds of a ball coming from just behind.

Ella, enraptured, knelt beside a large flowering bush, inhaling deeply as she disappeared among the petals and fronds. Lacey kept her distance, gazing around at the peaceful wonderland with a puzzled look on her face. Ella moved from plant to plant, enchanted by the blossoms and buds so out of season. "Oh!" Ella gasped and she reeled back from the plant she had been in the process of examining. A second later, a tousled head appeared from the bushes, blinking owlishly at them. Eyes wide, Ella hurried back to Lacey's side, slipping her gloved hand in hers. "So sorry," Ella mumbled apologetically.

"I should say so!" the figure quipped before disappearing back into the dark recess. A high-pitched giggle issued from the bushes and Lacey burst into laughter, tugging Ella after her as they headed out towards the music.

"They were-" Ella murmured, scandalized, "in the middle of a ball!"

"It's called a rendezvous," Lacey teased Ella. "Surely, a country girl like you knows all about the birds and the bees."

"There was nothing bird or bee like about their behavior," Ella replied, turning back to look over her shoulder. "And in public!"

"Welcome to a royal ball," Lacey laughed. "I highly recommend it, if you have a chance." Lacey advised, grinning as Ella stumbled to a stop beside her. "Great for the heart."

"Belle!" Ella said in amazement, before clapping her hands to her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry, I keep forgetting. Your Royal Highness, I meant no disrespect. I was just-"

"Belle is fine, Ella," Lacey sighed, surveying the hallway they had entered. "As a lady, you needn't use my title, especially when we're alone."

Entering into what appeared to be the grand hall, Lacey took in the towering barrel vaulted ceiling overhead before her eyes moved to the triple fireplace that spanned their end of the hall. Between the glittering masses, they could see a hint of a pipe organ, surrounded by the rest of the orchestra.

The entire room was lit by hanging circled candelabra, with taxidermied deer and bear heads blankly staring down at them from darkened windows let in some ambient starlight but the hall was lit mainly by the candles burning along the walls intermixed with tapestries. A group of dancers moved in unison on the floor, switching partners and forming lines, circles and reels as they danced a set. Watching the intricate motions, Lacey made a mental note not to accept a dance from anyone; hopefully her so called home sweet home back in the Fourth Kingdom didn't have synchronized dancing. Beside her, Ella swayed to the music, her eyes closing blissfully as the crescendo rose higher and higher, the dancers spinning faster and faster.

Caught up in the moment, Ella stepped out from the archway they stood under, and twirled back to Lacey with a beatific smile. In a perfectly timed moment, the music faded to a stop and just as all the dancers and revelers paused to applaud, Ella proclaimed in wonder. "It's just like a dream!"

Everyone turned from the maestro and his musicians. Ella, stunned, slowly turned back to face the masses that had accumulated in the room. Lacey took a quick half step to the side where the shadows were thickest in the archway. She winced, silently urging Ella to retreat.

Yet, Ella did not retreat or blush or fidget under the eyes of half the court and royal families of the realm. Instead, she curtsied perfectly, allowing a moment of rest before straightening. The maestro nodded at her in approval, lifting his baton to start the music once again, when the crowd mysteriously began to part.

The music once again delayed, the maestro seemed peeved for a moment before he stilled, turning his attention from the crowd back to Ella. Lacey, confused, moved slightly to the right. A young man, heading their way, was the one responsible for the crowd's silence. As he grew closer, Lacey could better see him. It wasn't terribly hard since he towered over most of the crowd. His skin was the color of pale sand, which was perfectly highlighted by his ebony black tailcoat. His dark hair gleamed blue in the candle light with a crown on his head.

Arriving before Ella, he sank into a practiced bow. Lacey could not hear the words that passed between them. Yet, when the prince rose, there was a bewildered smile on his face.

He held himself like an officer, confirmed by the militaristic three rows of golden buttons that went down his chest, one straight down the middle and the other two angled to fall in a graceful arc across his chest. His movements were rigid and formal but his hooded eyes were bright and warm as he smiled in a modest self-aware fashion. He held out a gloved hand, and waited as Ella regarded him with equal trepidation and fascination.

The rest of the room was growing louder with whispers and buzzing as the crowd began to discuss this unexpected development. As for Lacey, she was growing fidgety in her little corner. She silently implored Ella to take the prince's hands, wanting the crowd's attention to return to the dance so she might slip in unseen.

As if she had heard this plea, Ella turned to find her in the shadows, uncertainty painted all over her face. Lacey made a shooing motion, indicating the still-waiting and growingly confused prince before making another impatient motion with her hands. Ella nodded quickly, turning back to take the offered hand, letting the relieved prince draw her onto the dance floor. A few people still standing awkwardly in their way, moved aside as the maestro hurriedly struck the band back up.

Ella, as if in a daze, held up her arms to be swept into the music. The prince led masterfully, his eyes resting lightly upon Ella's upturned face. He was just barely as tall as Ella. It had been an unexpected thoughtfulness of the Imp putting her in slippers. If she had worn heels, she would have cleared the prince's head.

Watching the two sweep around the floor, the other dancers slowly melted off until the entire assembly stood by and watched the crown prince twirl and sweep the newcomer in elegant arcs. His arms framed her majestically as Ella matched his every step, easily following his unspoken direction changes. In his dark jacket and spotless white trousers, the Prince was a study in stark elegance. Ella, in her patterned silk of blues and her tawny skin glistening in the candlelight, glowed as if one of the moons had joined them in the ballroom.

A few people arrived behind Lacey in the doorway, chattering about the divine food provided before falling silent in awe as they entered into the unexpected scene that was unfolding before them. "Who is that?" one whispered to her friends, peering over Lacey's shoulder. "With the prince?"

"No idea!" her companion squeaked, bending down to see if she could see better through the crowds that way. "I've never seen her before!"

At the mention of food, Lacey realized she was more hungry than curious, and moved quietly behind them, leaving Ella to her prince. From the looks of the other men in the ballroom, all ignoring their previous partners some of whom were now sulking in the corners, it appeared Ella would have no want of dances tonight.

Following the general line of guards, Lacey arrived in a salon where food was laid out on table after table. Wine was being poured as servants moved around the room, and Lacey quickly found a goblet. Her cup runneth over quickly, and after she had sampled the boar, duck and various roasts, she emerged back into the hallway for some fresh air.

People hurried past her, all discussing the mysterious newcomer that was monopolizing the prince's dance card. Lacey smiled as she brushed past them, enjoying the time to herself as she sampled the castle's best wines. As tired as she was, the allure and majesty of the halls were too interesting to ignore. Planning to explore until she found a suitable place of respite, she found herself entering a gallery full of portraits of long dead kings and queens. This room was mostly empty of people, mostly older nobles dozing in the armchairs throughout the hall. Perfectly suitable for her own needs at the moment.

As she moved down the hall, looking for an unoccupied area, Lacey noticed a peculiarity. At the far end of the gallery under a portrait of a rather fat king whose mouth was twisted in a smile or perhaps in the middle of a bite of the turkey leg he held up, a young woman stood by herself. She was dressed in pink frills that completely washed out her pale, pearly skin. With dark hair curled into an infinite braided bun, ribbons dangled from her hair to fall down her back. She looked like an oversized cat toy.

Feeling someone's eyes on her, the woman turned, meeting Lacey's gaze and smiling self-consciously. Lacey smiled back, but before she could glance away, the pink and white girl glanced at the tapestry before her and then rolled her eyes. Lacey amused and encouraged by the small gesture, moved to join her before the fat king.

"He certainly didn't shy away from his hobbies," the woman said in lieu of a greeting, turning back to the boar king. "Died on a hunt, so they say. However, the amount of wine missing from his personal store may have been a factor in that."

At the painted king's feet, there were numerous skins of animals, each one looking up at him as if in reproach for their death. Behind him, a large table was covered in bottles of wine, some empty ones littering the floor. "Perhaps that's how he wanted to go," Lacey suggested. "Drunken and disorderly."

The other woman did not turn from the painting. "Or perhaps in the arms of his mistress," she added, indicating a jeweled necklace that draped out of the king's pocket. "I hear that's the more pleasant way to go."

Without comment, they moved to the next painting where a young boy peered mischievously from behind his mother and father. "A legitimized bastard son," Lacey's new companion shared conspiratorially. "Queen Anne preferred fairer company than her husband."

They continued moving from painting to painting, discussing royalty long dead and the secrets that they failed to take to their grave. Enjoying herself tremendously, Lacey lost track of the time as the occasional servant found them, filling up her wine before disappearing. Her new companion did not drink, nor did any servant offer her wine. The pink-clad lady kept her eyes for the most part on the paintings or the intricacies of the hall, pointing out things here and there to Lacey.

After a spell, they arrived in front of the newest addition to the hall, an oil painting of the crown prince, looking majestically off into the distance. Lacey admired the likeness. The painter had captured his angular face and the hooded eyes masterfully, but it was the smile that lingered at the edge of his eyes that caught Lacey's attention. "Our good Prince Thomas," the woman said fondly. "He hates portraits. Took them months to finish, he kept disappearing off to the grounds when he was supposed to be standing for the artist."

Nearby, a grandfather clock rang out and her companion stilled as she counted the chimes. Lacey noted the eleven chimes, deciding she had time yet to stay and talk. Unfortunately, her companion seemed to have other ideas. "And that completes our tour, your Royal Highness," the other woman said respectfully, sinking into a half-curtesy. "It has been a pleasure to talk with you."

"No need for all that," Lacey grumbled, looking around in case someone had overheard. "You can just call me Belle." The woman smiled and curtsied again, eyes lingering on the clock. "You know, an awful lot about this family," Lacey commented, not quite ready to let her slip away and leave her on her own. "How is that?"

The woman assumed an enviable poker face as she stared serenely back at her. "Everyone knows everything about everyone in these parts," she replied matter-of-factly. "But I forget, you're not from around here."

"Is it that obvious?" Lacey asked, gesturing to herself. The wine was warming her pleasantly. Her lips were loosened, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks rosy and flushed.

The other woman smiled. "You're wearing a tiara, the artisan quality of which practically announces your station, birth rank and wealth, your Royal Highness," her shrewd new friend pointed out. "The real question is why a visiting eligible royal would be touring the tapestry hall instead of seeking out the prince?"

Lacey nodded, looping her arm through the other women's and pulling her back down the other length of the hall. The woman looked as if she would protest for a moment, but then relaxed into her, obviously used to these kinds of royal whims. "So, what about you, Lady...?" Lacey asked, using her new found advantage to keep the conversation going.

"Marian Richards," she replied as Lacey continued to pull back to the far end of the hall, far away from princes and dances. "No title."

"I don't mean any offense," Lacey said, stilling. " I thought only eligible women of the land were invited?" Not that it mattered. She and Ella had crashed the party. Apparently, just like back home, as long as one wore the right outfit, said the right things, and looked up for a good time, a girl could get into anywhere. Despite the courtly balls and magical mayhem, things didn't seem all that different in this world sometimes.

Marian nodded, stopping before one of the older tapestries, depicting the castle's facade masterfully. "As well as personal friends of the prince," Marian clarified, tugging at one of her pink frills with a look of distaste on her face. "My father was gamekeeper for the estate. Thomas and I grew up together and he insisted I attend." Marian glanced at her as if to defy her to comment on her use of the prince's given name. Lacey grew rather sure she had made an excellent choice of company while Ella danced.

"Life long friends?" Lacey asked, her subtext evident without further commentary. Lacey was familiar with male-female friendships. In her experiences, unless there was another party involved such as mutually beloved significant other, they were rarely simply platonic. Marian, while wearing an unfortunate frock, was attractive in a robust way. Her curves filled out her dress nicely and her full pink cheeks and cupid-bowed lips fit her face perfectly. She looked very much like a cherub from the old church scenes, the ever present glimmer of mischief in her eye only heightening the likeness.

Marian nodded, tilting her chin coyly. "We thought we were twins until we turned seven. Then, he was ushered into the palace to learn to be a prince, and I..." Marian smiled, remembering something from long ago. "I was honored to be named a handmaiden to the queen. A very high title for a mere gamekeeper's daughter." Lacey made a noise of interest, lingering in front of the prince's portrait. "It lasted all of a week," Marian recalled with a laugh. "Thomas kept finding me and ordering me to come outside to play. I'll never forget the time his mother found us half drowned in the river, pretending to be river spirits. She sent me to my father and told him I would never be a proper lady. His father however told my father that with some training, I could perhaps in time make a loyal castellan."

Lacey, not understanding the word but recognizing it as important, nodded knowingly and attempted to change the subject. "And why then are you lurking in here instead of spending the evening protecting your dear friend from all the hopeful brides and their mothers?"

Marian flushed, her pale skin betraying her with bright pink staining her ears all the way to her bosom. Lacey thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, and pulled her into a nearby doorway which turned out to be a library. "Your Royal Highness," Marian protested but Lacey silenced her.

Lacey knew that look on a woman's face. She had seen it often enough in co-workers, classmates and once before on a little mermaid. "Spill," she demanded.

Marian blinked at her, eyes darting away. "I beg your pardon?"

Placing her now empty goblet on a nearby table, Lacey lowered herself into an arm chair, tugging Marian into the neighboring one. The library smelled of old paper and leather, a fire crackling peacefully. No one lingered in the room; it was a haven for secrets and respite from the gaiety in the halls outside.

"At a ball for your best friend to find his wife, you're lingering in the tapestry hall and talking to a complete stranger," Lacey pointed out. "You're either jealous and heartbroken, unable to see your best friend find his wife or, and I expect the real reason, you're waiting for someone."

Marian's flush returned, blue eyes fluttering as she opened her mouth to deny it. Lacey settled back into the chair's cushions, a knowing smile on her lips. Finally, Mairan huffed and shot her a displeased look across the space between them.

"I chose poorly in a form of distraction," Marian complained, although the compliment was evident. "Most princesses are remarkably more self-centered, your Royal Highness."

Lacey laughed. "Believe me," she said earnestly. "I'm one of the most selfish people you'll meet. The thing is I don't pretend otherwise."

"Apologies, your Royal Highness," Marian replied, settling back into her own chair. "But I don't believe that for a moment."

"Oh?" Lacey asked, enjoying the tipsy drowsy effect of the copious wine as she grew comfortable in the plush armchair.

Marian nodded, eyes still alert on Lacey's face. "You're tucked away in a library with a non-titled lady of no fortune, discussing my secrets and refraining from snagging a prince out from every single noble woman of this land. If the King knew a princess was here, he would not hesitate for an instant to ink a betrothal."

"So, why didn't he just do that?" Lacey murmured, waving a hand. "Just marry his son off to the highest bidder?"

Marian snorted and Lacey giggled. "After all the wars these past years? Not likely any princess in any realm would risk her pretty head."

"Wars?" Lacey asked, straightening. "What wars?"

A clock chimed nearby, eleven dings again followed by two short clangs. Marian glanced at it and sighed. "I'm sorry, Belle," she apologized, taking her hand in hers. "I have to go. It's almost midnight."

Lacey jumped to her feet, pulse hammering as she demanded, "What?"

Marian binked up at her. "In twenty minutes, it'll be midnight," Marian repeated. "I have to go-"

"I've got to go," Lacey declared breathlessly. Ignoring Marian's questions of concern, she headed towards the door back to the gallery hall.

"Belle, wait!" Marian exclaimed, catching her arm. Lacey groaned, stamping her foot impatiently as her eye found the clock over the mantle. "What's going on?"

"I can't explain," Lacey said lamely. "I need to find the lady I came with before midnight and I can't tell you why."

Marian stared at her for a moment, pink glove clutching the bare skin of Lacey's upper arm before she stepped back and nodded. "Where did you last see her?" she asked.

"The dancing hall," Lacey told her. "She was dancing with the prince-"

"Follow me," Marian ordered, disappearing further down into the library. Lacey protested, standing uncertainly in the doorway as Marian moved further and further in the opposite direction of the hall. Torn between trusting the woman and her certainty she was going the wrong way, Lacey threw her head back in a groan and set out to follow her.

Marian was bent before the mantle, scowling as she pressed here and there. "Marian," Lacey implored just as the other girl straightened with a triumphant grin. The mantle swung open and revealed a hidden passage, heading in the direction of the banquet hall. Staring down the dark but probably very quick route, Lacey let out a small sound of relief. "Marian, title or not, I could kiss you."

Marian raised her brows for a moment. "Well, that's certainly a new proposition," she remarked politely. "Now, hurry. I can take you halfway but then I have to leave-"

"After you," Lacey indicated. Marian grabbed a torch from the library's halls before disappearing down the dark tunnel, Lacey following quickly behind her. The dark and narrow passageway, only illuminated by the small torch Marian held out in front of her was cramped and smelled of mildew. All they could hear was their breathing and the sound of their own hurried footsteps echoing around them in their ears.

Suddenly, Marian came to a halt by a small door. "This is me," she whispered, handing over the torch. She opened the door and cold wind from outside whipped into the passage, the torch glowing bright as oxygen fed the small flame. Lacey moved beyond the reach of the wind, watching as Marian bent and exited. "Keep going straight," she advised. "You'll find a door, it leads right into the banquet hall in the far corner behind the orchestra. There's a place for the torch on the far wall when you exit, no one should see you if you're discreet."

"Thank you," Lacey whispered. "Will you be here tomorrow?"

"As long as I don't get caught tonight," Marian said with a grin before the door closed shut behind her. Despite her curiosity about Marian's destination, Lacey hurried on, lest the belle of the ball turn back into a servant girl covered in soot in the arms of a prince. She would have to ask Ella about the wars, wondering how much the other woman knew about them or if she knew at all. The lands hadn't looked ravaged by war and famine but perhaps in this world wars were fought differently. It did explain why a group of good men were hiding in the forest, although it didn't do much to explain why the castle was hosting such a grand event for its own nobles.

Lacey reached the hidden door within minutes, opening it easily and finding herself behind the pipe organ. There was just enough room for a small person to slip comfortably out, tuck the torch in a small empty holder and slip around the organ, looking as though they were just examining the great thing.

In all the commotion of the late hour, no one noticed her, not even the tired musicians. Dusting her hands off, the imaginary feel of spiderwebs in her mind, Lacey glanced through the crowd and easily was able to see the tall, grand couple in the center of the dance floor, lost in each other's eyes.

"Good god," Lacey grumbled, moving to the edge of the floor. "Not another love story."

As she moved forward, a young buck with a gray uniform materialized before her, bowing low as he offered her his hand. "May I have this dance?" he inquired formally, staring down at her shoes as he awaited an answer.

The band had just started another set, a few couples still joining the others as the dance began. Realizing she had no other reason to get closer to Ella without drawing suspicion, Lacey grabbed his arm and hauled him behind her.

"Your Royal Highness," he gasped, nearly tripping over his own feet as he hurried to keep up.

Lacey ignored him, arriving as close as possible to Ella and the Prince as the music swelled to a start. Only when the couple next to them turned to exchange hands, did Lacey remember she had no idea how to dance.

"Your Royal Highness," her partner whispered, nodding his head in the general direction of the other man now opposite her. Lacey glared back at him, eyes wide and shoulders hunched forward in the universal 'what?' sign.

Thankfully universal also extended to this realm. Eyes widening, the other man caught the eye of her dance partner who thankfully was also quick on the draw. Within a second, the other man took her hand mirroring his in an upright position, forearms touching as he began to gently spin them into a small circle. Feeling ten times a fool as she awkwardly bobbed up and down, Lacey tried to catch Ella's eye. However, Ella's eyes were locked on the prince, a secret smile on both their lips as their disappointed and disgruntled current dance partners resigned themselves to being props.

"Ella!" Lacey hissed, ignoring the traumatized young man that collected her back from the other dancer. He glanced over at the prince and the stranger that had so besotted him, quickly realizing Lacey's ulterior motives in accepting this dance.

Not one to shrink from royal duty, the young man took in a deep breath. "Hold on," he whispered to her and Lacey glanced back at him, just as the music soared, the bass coming in to join the winds, taking the dance from sensual to exuberant. Before she could catch her balance, her dance partner whirled her out of their set, bumping them ungainly straight in the crown prince and his dance partner.

The crown prince managed to catch Ella before she fell, but Lacey's partner, beet red with humiliation, was unable to catch Lacey as he tried to bow and apologize profusely to the crown prince. "My apologies, your Royal Highness," he mumbled feverishly. "New shoes. Very slippery."

Lacey had fallen on her ass, trying to get back to her feet in a hooped skirt proving to be near impossible. Luckily, Ella looked away from her precious prince for a moment and saw her struggling like a fish out of water. "Belle!" Ella cried, lurching forward to help her up. Prince Thomas looked down, seeing her for the first time and beat Ella to the punch, swooping down and righting Lacey.

Her poor unlikely hero was trembling, armed guards starting to edge in on the dance floor. Lacey grabbed Ella, whispering, "It's nearly midnight!"

The reaction was instantaneous. Ella gave a small cry, and flew around to gather the prince's hands in her. "This has been lovely," she told him, squeezing his hands in hers. "You've been lovely, but I-"

"Ella!" Lacey growled, trying to see the clock over the masses of people. "Tick tock!"

Ella moaned, shook her head and dropped the prince's hands. "Tomorrow," she promised as she backed away towards Lacey.

"Your Royal Highness!" Lacey's partner squeaked, before he was cut off by the prince who strode before him after Ella.

"Ella," Thomas called, his voice deep and baffled. "Wait!"

"I'm sorry!" Ella called back to him as Lacey shot through a nearby gap, effectively cutting the prince off as the new set started. She heard him calling them back, but the guards were still too focused on the man who had run into the prince to notice the two of them running out of the ballroom.

"Too close!" Lacey complained. Beside her, long legs keeping pace easily, Ella made an inarticulate sound of apology, hopping as she pulled one glass slipper off her foot and then the other.

Barefoot, Ella soon overtook Lacey, bursting outside to find their pumpkin coach waiting at the foot of the stairs. Their goose coachman squawked in outrage as the lizard driver twisted round in his seat, eyes wide. Behind them, they heard a giant clang as every clock in the castle struck the first chime of midnight.

"Go, go!" Lacey yelled, swinging her hands at them as Ella hit the carriage door. The horses that had once been mice reared and then took off, Lacey barely catching the open door and swinging herself in behind Ella. Her hoop skirt caught on the edges of the door, but Ella grabbed her and hauled her on top of her, both breathless as the door flapped behind them.

Well aware of their time limit, their magical team crashed through the lawns. They heard some footmen yell, the guards at the gate nearly run over as they came out of their stupor to see what was the clatter. Lacey, struggling to her elbows, managed to roll off Ella and find the woods rushing past them in a blur.

Bouncing wildly about the carriage, Ella was clutching her glass slippers for dear life as the team of horses raced through the night. With no clock to tell the time, Lacey tried to count, barely getting to nine before the carriage abruptly stopped, the whinny of horses turning into squeaks. "Out!" Lacey ordered, grabbing Ella's hand and pulling her out of the carriage through the rapidly shrinking door.

In a moment, Ella lay on top of her in the dirt, her sooty dress staining the dress Lacey had borrowed from her. They blinked at each other, the sound of an outraged goose honking at them from feet away.

Rolling off her, Ella lay beside her, looking out over the hills where a bunch of mice were eating away at a pumpkin, a lizard froze by their feet, tongue lashing out at them before disappearing into the darkness, and a goose flapping his wings as if personally affronted by the entire business.

Within moments, both of them were laughing. They clutched their stomachs as they lay back in the dirt, occasionally catching each other's eyes and just laughing harder. Finally, after they were both shaking, their stomachs cramping, they made it to their feet.

"Well," Lacey sighed, brushing her hands off. "I guess we get to walk back." She did not relish the idea, knowing dawn was only hours away with plenty to do before the stepmonsters arrived back at the manor.

"Sorry, Belle," Ella sighed, linking her arm through hers as she led them back to the main path. "We're about a mile from the manor."

"Hey," Lacey said, stopping. "Your shoes."

Ella looked down to find her sooty shoes back on her feet. Lacey shook her head, pointing back to where they had fallen. Laying forgotten were the glass slippers, shining in the moonlight. Ella retrieved them, tucking them into her apron pocket. "How odd," Ella mused. "I thought everything would have disappeared." Her eyes glanced up to Lacey's hair and she pointed. "But you still have your tiara. Maybe it's something to do with the magic?"

Lacey lifted her hand to her head, and sure enough, Emma's tiara was still tangled in her hair. She took it down, placing it in her own large pocket for safekeeping. "Yeah," Lacey echoed, brow furrowed. "Maybe."

She would have to talk to the Imp on the morrow. Something was going on here, and she intended to find out what. But first…

Lacey yawned as Ella returned back to her. First, she was going to find somewhere to sleep.

* * *

_And First Night is down!_

_I hope you all enjoyed Marian- I thought her and Lacey would get along splendidly and sure enough they did. Her backstory is a bit different than canon/Ouat/Disney but I hope you'll forgive me. Thanks always to ramloth for editing!_

_Mood Board: post/136689301487/the-gate-chapter-24-mood-board_

_I want to address a few concerns about readers missing The Imp. I know this is a particularly odd story when it comes to Rumbelle as Lacey is/is not Belle and doesn't spend a whole lot of time with "Rumple". I promise. I promise. I promise that this story is endgame for these two- but it's an epic journey through Fae and Lacey has been growing past the woman she was when she came over to Fae and I think it vitally important that she does so on her own terms. I can let you know that I think everyone will particularly enjoy an upcoming chapter as it will drop a particularly fun bombshell that I've been working towards all this time. But I hope in the interim, you enjoy Ella/Marian/Robin._

_I wanted to thank you all for sticking through 24 (!) chapters of my little story thus far._

_3_


	25. Chapter 25

Collapsing on a stool, Lacey blinked at the mound of laundry before her as she tried to decide if God was punishing her. Nearby, Ella was humming quietly to herself as she held up a nightgown, waltzing around in small circles with it. At this sickening display, Lacey sank over onto the table before her, buried her face in her arms and groaned.

Four hours. Four measly hours of sleep in over forty eight hours. Lacey's entire body was sluggish, her mind was barely functional and her mood dismal. And here was Ella, dancing around the room with a piece of laundry.

"I despise you," Lacey told her without moving her head up. "Stop being perky."

The humming paused, a guilty giggle coming from the usually mature woman. Lacey lifted her head up so she could peer over her arms at the maid. Ella smiled fondly down at the gown before she folded it and put it away. She caught Lacey's glare and grimaced apologetically over at her. "Sorry, Belle," she murmured, looking appropriately guilty. "Why don't you go lay back down for a bit? I can finish the rest."

Lacey sighed, pushing herself back up to stare at the large mounds of laundry surrounding them. Chemises, slips, ball gowns, day dresses, cloaks, stockings and god knew what else were strewn around the room, organized into piles depending on how to best wash them. Upstairs, the stepmonsters were all fast asleep, not having arrived home until sunrise. They had stumbled into the house, yawning and calling for the maids to help them undress for bed.

Ella had to shake Lacey for almost a minute before she had consented to getting up this morning. Half asleep, she had managed to help undo the stays and loops of the corsets and hoops of the stepsisters, thankfully having learned earlier when Ella helped her undo her own when they had gotten home from from the ball. It hadn't taken long, but there was no time to go back to bed. There was much to be done before the ladies woke up, demanding food and attention and providing even more chores.

"No," Lacey decided, pushing herself back on her feet. "Let's get it done. Maybe I'll get to sleep when I'm dead." Ella didn't reply to this dramatic statement, but aimed a balled up shirt that hit Lacey square in the face, causing them both to burst into laughter.

"Having fun, are we?"

Lady Tremaine stood in the doorway, blocking the incoming afternoon light as she stared down at them from the top of the stairs. She wore a rich brocade dressing gown, hair immaculate. They had not heard her in their moment of light-hearted levity.

"Stepmother," Ella greeted, giving a small courtesy. "I didn't know you were awake."

"Apparently."

"Can I get you something to eat?" Ella inquired, moving towards the doorway.

Lady Tremaine held up her hand, shaking her head as she motioned for Ella to return to the laundry pile. "That won't be necessary. I simply wanted to tell you dinner will be at five tonight."

"So early?" Ella asked. "But-"

"The girls were quite a sensation at the ball last night," Lady Tremaine lied smoothly. It was masterfully done. If Lacey hadn't known the girls were unattractive in both looks and personality, and that Ella had captivated the prince's attention all night, she would have almost believed her. "We will be leaving early this evening, to ensure more time socializing."

Lacey turned to her pile of clothes, hiding her expression. More likely, the girls had stood to the sides all night, and hoped to get there earlier in an attempt to have a better opportunity to dance with the prince. Ella continued to speak with her stepmother, finalizing the dinner menu.

"You, there," Lady Tremaine called out and Lacey turned to find her peering down at her.

"Yes, my lady?" Lacey replied innocently.

"Anastasia informs me that you were quite proficient if somewhat slow with helping her get ready last night. Ella is more than capable of handling the girls; tonight, you'll assist me."

"As you wish, my lady," Lacey curtsied, waiting until the footsteps receded away before straightening. She rolled her eyes at the lady's retreating back.

"Belle, I'm so sorry," Ella whispered as she moved back to the clothes. A tub of warm water stood by, waiting for them to start. "You're a princess and here we are making you wash clothes!"

"You aren't making me do anything, Ella," Lacey assured her. The Imp on the other hand... "I'm more than happy to help you after what you did for us. Hansel and Gretel are safely headed to their father. I have a place to sleep and food to eat-"

"But why not just stay at the palace?" Ella pointed out. She looked concerned. Clearly, she had been thinking about this all morning. "As a princess, you'd be treated as a visiting dignitary-"

"Ella, drop it," Lacey stressed. "I'm staying here with you, all right?"

Ella nodded morosely. For the rest of the early morning, Lacey kept catching her shooting her curious glances. Scrubbing harder, her fingers already prunes, Lacey ignored it. She focused on the one thing that was getting her through this. She was going to kill the Imp when she got her hands on him.

With dinner done and the last few rays of daylight disappearing from the sky, Lacey stood at the top of the stairs, staring at the imposing master bedroom. Ella, in her sooty shoes and wrinkled dress, stood beside her, one hand resting encouragingly on Lacey's shoulder. "Remember," Ella whispered. "Don't speak unless spoken to, don't touch anything and keep your eyes down."

"Why do I have to-"

"Just trust me," Ella replied with a shudder. "I have to go if we're going to get them out of the house on time."

Lacey nodded as Ella moved off down the hall. Shooting her one more sympathetic glance, Ella opened her stepsister's door to a loud burst of annoyed voices before it clicked shut behind her. Downstairs, the grandfather clock in the hall, rang out the time and Lacey knocked, right on cue.

"Enter."

Turning the knob gently, Lacey found herself surrounded by dark oak wood, deep reds and heavy wooden accents making the room feel significantly smaller than she had anticipated. At the far end, Lady Tremaine was sitting in her dressing robe, eyes cutting to Lacey's in the vanity mirror.

"Come here, girl," she ordered, returning to her own reflection. Lacey made her way through the maze of settees and end tables, noticing that not a single personal item was on display in this room. When she arrived at the vanity, Lady Tremaine wordlessly handed her a brush, and a small ornate box full of pins.

Taking the offered objects, Lacey tucked the pins in her pocket. The Blind Witch's dreadlock still lay at the bottom of her pocket, as she was unwilling to risk losing it. Her other secrets, Emma's tiara and Ella's glass slippers were carefully hidden in a tightly wrapped sack buried in the soot of the fireplace. In silence, Lacey took down the elder woman's ornate updo, combing out the snags gently, being no stranger to long hair and its twists and tangles.

Enjoying the silence, Lacey had nearly finished when Lady Tremaine spoke. "How do you like it here so far?" she inquired pointedly, shrewd eyes staring back at Lacey in the mirror.

"Quite well, thank you," Lacey responded neutrally. She moved the brush to her other pocket, starting to gather Lady Tremaine's hair in sections. She had seen a hairstyle the night before that had appeared easy, mostly fishtail braiding which Lacey had done often when she was younger.

Careful not to tug on the woman's scalp, Lacey made quick work of the hair, checking for loose strands or uneven lumps before she swept the entire braid into a knot at the base of Lady Tremaine's skull, pinning it neatly before covering it with what Ella called a snood, but looked more like a cafeteria lady's hair net.

"Suitable," Lady Tremaine declared as she admired the handiwork with the use of a hand mirror. Lacey nodded, taking the mirror away as Lady Tremaine stood and moved towards the bed. A huge four poster with heavy velvet curtains, it reminded Lacey of her bed back in the Dark Castle, but this had a more masculine energy, too large for the tall but slight woman before her. A fat gray cat lay in the shadows there, blank eyes staring at Lacey as she approached.

"Shoo, Lucifer," Lady Tremaine ordered. The cat stretched out languidly, turning on his heel and disappearing onto the floor as if it was his idea. Before Lacey could watch where he disappeared to, Lady Tremaine had shed her dressing gown and stood stoically before her in nothing but her chemise and calf length drawers underneath.

Locating the corset on the bed, Lacey placed it on Lady Tremaine, careful to bring it down as low as possible before hooking the last hook. Inhaling deeply, Lady Tremaine tugged it down lower as Lacey quickly moved to fasten the front elastics. Within moments, she had managed to expertly pull the strings downwards and began the laborious process of lacing it up.

"Where were you before here?" Lady Tremaine asked her, face turned away from her.

Having prepared this with Ella earlier just in case, Lacey was ready with a reply. "The Strong family in the next land. Master Strong died in the war and his wife moved in with their eldest daughter. I was left to the new owners but when they lost the funding, the house was empty. I had to find a new position and happened to meet one of your family's merchants. He advised me that your household was inquiring for a new maid."

"Hmm," Lady Tremaine replied thoughtfully. Lacey, careful not to jerk her as she finished lacing, tied the excess lace in the back of the corset and twisted them loosely as she tucked them into the corset. She was getting rather proficient at this. Lacey gathered the under petticoat, plain and stiffened. She drew it over Lady Tremaine, careful not to disturb her hair before tying it neatly around her narrow waist.

Nearby on the floor, lay the hoop skirt and Lady Tremaine moved over to it without prompting. Lacey drew it up, mentally cursing her own hoop skirt, which made the process of putting on someone else's fairly difficult. With a single drawstring at the back, it was quickly tied before the over petticoat was put on, the embroidered hem stark white. The small clock on the mantle showed it was almost time for the ladies to be leaving. Lacey caught Lady Tremaine glancing at it and hurried to gather the dress laying neatly across the bed.

"Belle," Lady Tremaine started warmy, causing Lacey to pause. The use of her given name was startling, most likely intended to make her feel comfortable. Instead, it made all of Lacey's warning bells go off in quick succession. "How would you like a permanent position here?"

'I'd rather die' did not seem like a suitable answer so Lacey smiled in polite confusion. "To help Ella?"

"To replace Ella," Lady Tremaine said neutrally. "You see, I'm afraid my late husband's income had been rather stretched with three daughters to raise. My two girls are bound to find themselves suitable husbands, if not during the royal ball, shortly after." Lacey, gathering the silk gauze dress with its full skirt, barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"An offer however was recently made on Ella, my late husband's daughter," the older woman continued, standing perfectly still as Lacey helped dress her in the cream cloth, black and red stripes elongating the already tall woman. Arranging the square neck on the woman's flat chest and fluffing out the pagoda style sleeves, Lacey remained quiet. From what Ella had told her, she had not given the Prince her name, wary of the nobility's taste for gossip.

"Considering her unavoidable flaws," Lady Tremaine was saying, unaware of Lacey's growing disgust. "I found it odd and possibly even a foolish alliance on the suitor's part. However, the Sheriff is very interested in attaining a wife of nobility and I found it a perfectly suitable arrangement in that regard-"

Robin had mentioned a sheriff, Lacey dimly recalled. She wondered if it was the same one he had warned her about and grew cold. "Done, my lady," Lacey finished, stepping back as she handed over matching shoes. "Will you be needing anything else?"

"An answer," Lady Tremaine replied smoothly back. "You've done admirable work since you've arrived. The girls find you adequate for their needs and I find no reason to disagree. You would have the kitchen as your quarters, one quarter of every meal's remains, meaning food would not come out of your pay, and holidays off depending on our social calendars."

Lacey bit her cheek at this 'offer'. She would be a slave, treated possibly worse than Ella for the rest of her life in a house that was selling off the only decent person there to pay the bills. "I'm very grateful," Lacey managed, using her astonished disbelief to her advantage. "I had another offer from another family, I was writing them to accept but perhaps-"

"Take the night to think about it then," Lady Tremaine negotiated masterfully. "We'll discuss it further tomorrow."

Lacey curtsied, turning to go when she heard. "Oh and Belle?"

"Yes?" Lacey asked, hand on the doorknob, desperate to escape so she could bury her fist into something repeatedly.

"Don't say anything to Ella," Lady Tremaine murmured without looking back at her. "I wouldn't want to get her hopes up in case the Sheriff changes his mind."

Lacey nodded stiffly before turning the knob and fleeing from the room.

"Do you think he'll come back?" Ella asked, breaking the silence as they stood outside under the moonlight. Ella had her glass slippers on, her sooty ones sitting on the stairs for their return. Lacey had her tiara perched in her hair, loose curls sooty from rooting around the fireplace to find these hidden treasures. "Or-"

As the moons overheard touched, a blinding whiteness made both women raise their arms to cover their eyes, effectively answering the question. When Lacey lowered her arm, she found Ella staring down at her gown, an even more elaborate short sleeved gown with full skirts. The short sleeves had lace and trimmings that accentuated Ella's toned arms, while the cream fabric and accentuating light blue stripes brought out the undertones of Ella's skin. Small floral patterns of different colors and shapes floated down the skirts which Ella held out, her small white kid gloves glowing in the darkness.

"Fancy," Lacey said approvingly. It was not as eye catching as the dress Ella had worn the night before, this one one however was more regal. Lacey's in comparison was as simple as the one she had worn last night, pale champagne and off the shoulder. The only additional details were small tassels descending from the layered fabric that accentuated her breasts. The Imp's fashion sense was, while practical, not as aspiring as gowns the Queen had provided for her and Ariel in the Seventh Kingdom's. "I look like a potato," Lacey grumbled, plucking at the silk skirt.

"You look lovely," Ella corrected. "I particularly like your hair."

Lacey instinctively reached up to touch her hair, finding it had been braided back on the sides and then pinned in two spirals on the base of her neck. Her tiara sat quaintly in the style as if it had been placed there by her own hand. "Least there's not a snood," Lacey joked. Ella, touching her own hair curled into rolls and laced with flowers, smiled back at her as the coach rolled to a stop before them.

The angry squawk of their gooseman hurried them both inside, moving off towards the castle as the night darkened around them. Ella practically vibrated as they bounced over the rough roads, sighing occasionally before fidgeting to glance back out the window. After a few minutes, Lacey laughed. "Calm down. We'll be there any minute. Magic carriages have quite the advantage."

"I know," Ella replied, sitting back and folding her hands in her lap. "But what if Thomas doesn't remember me?"

Lacey smiled. "Considering he danced with you for over an hour last night, and you ran off without giving him so much as your name, I doubt he's done anything but think about you all day."

"Really?" Ella asked, glancing up from her lap. "Do you really think so, Belle?"

If there was one thing in this world that Lacey knew, it was men. And the men in this world didn't seem too terribly different from the ones back home. With a wink, she assured Ella that Prince Thomas, the first of his name, was probably waiting at the door for her.

As it turns out, she wasn't half wrong. The second their carriage rolled to a stop at the foot of the gate, standing in a long line of other carriages, the guard at the gate came up and exchanged a few words with the lizard coachman. "Everything all right?" Lacey asked, leaning out the window.

The guard tilted his cap at her, slightly startled at being addressed by a royal. "Perfectly fine, your Royal Highness," he assured her as he came to the side of the carriage. Ella joined Lacey at the window and the guard's eyes grew wide. "My apologies, I didn't realize," he stammered. He turned to the lizard posing as their driver and urged him to go up the lawn. "Please go straight ahead," he directed as he waved a fellow guard over.

In quick succession, the coach arrived just beside the front stairs, a few scandalized nobles chattering about the rude behavior, even as the guard rushed alongside them on foot, disappearing into the castle. Lacey could barely contain her laughter as Ella looked about in confusion. "He had the guards looking for you," Lacey teased. "My, Ella, you certainly know how to make an impression!"

"It's not funny!" Ella hissed, looking traumatized. "What if they found out I'm not a real lady?"

Before Lacey could argue that she was in fact a real lady, the carriage door swung open. One of the royal footman helped put the steps down, holding out a hand for Lacey to take. His eyes however flicked over to Ella, taking her in with a curious glance. Lacey let him help her out, brushing the wrinkles in her dress out as she stood in the night air. The carriage between them and the castle rolled off, the next one being detained by another member of the guard.

Just as Ella emerged from the carriage, lifting her head from thanking the guard, a silhouette appeared at the top of the castle stairs. Barely pausing, Prince Thomas came down the short stairs, meeting them just at the edge of the drive. He sank into a deep bow, which Lacey and Ella returned with respective curtseys. Behind him, Lacey saw two shorter figures appear in the light of the hall, staring down at them.

"I wasn't sure you'd come back," Thomas whispered to Ella, taking her gloved hand in his own. He was wearing his same uniform, but his hair had been carefully brushed back. Lacey stood awkwardly to the side of them, highly aware that everyone was watching this little scene unfold on the lawn.

"I wouldn't have missed this for the world," Ella breathed back, squeezing his hand in hers. Neither spoke for a moment, content to gaze into each other's eyes as if the secret of life was buried there.

Growing fidgety, Lacey coughed, drawing the prince's attention. "Shall we?"

"Ah, Princess Belle," Thomas greeted, sinking into another respective bow. Lacey rolled her eyes over his head but followed suit as Ella stood demurely to the side. "It's my pleasure to formally make your acquaintance."

"As it is mine," Lacey acknowledged, eyes flickering back to the figures at the top of the stairs. "I presume Marian was forthcoming on my behalf?"

Thomas looked slightly abashed as Ella glanced curiously between them. "She may have mentioned she met you while I was busy bemoaning the princess who stole away my lovely dance partner."

Lacey laughed, offering her hand for Thomas to take. She knew one or two things about royal protocol from her days in the Seventh Kingdom, and sure enough, Thomas took it, shooting a warm smile at Ella as she fell in line behind them. "May I ask where you dwell, your Royal Highness?"

"Fourth Kingdom," Lacey supplied, mentally crossing her fingers that he hadn't travelled as far as Eric had.

Luckily for her that seemed to be the case; Thomas nodded solemnly. "I've heard great things about your land," he said wistfully. "I had planned to travel to the different kingdoms when I came of age but with the war…"

Lacey nodded thoughtfully, making another mental note to ask Marian about this war everybody kept mentioning. The lands did not look as if they had been at war, but it seemed a prickly subject, one that people did not hesitate to mention but did not elaborate upon. As they reached the stairs, Lacey realized one of the figures was indeed Marian, but she stood behind an older man, a crown on his balding head.

"Your Majesty," Lacey greeted, sinking into a half curtesy. Behind her, she heard the rustle of Ella's gown as she too dipped down. Marian cast her a sharp look, and Lacey gave a barely perceptible nod back. She had to tread carefully around the King; a royal alliance was something he would not hesitate to secure.

"Welcome to the First Kingdom," the King said jovially, taking her hand from his son to rest on his own pudgy arm. "I apologize for not meeting you last night, my son tells me you were late arriving and I sadly missed your entrance."

Behind them, Thomas had taken Ella's arm, and they moved off swiftly towards a different archway, Marian watching them off before she fell in step behind the King and Lacey. "Your castle is lovely, Your Majesty," Lacey said earnestly, buying the young couple some time. "I would love a tour."

The King chuckled in amusement. "Now, I'm sure that's not true. But I would love for my son," here, he turned, frowning as he realized Thomas had vanished. Sighing, he glanced at Marian. "Really, my dear?" he asked her with a shake of his head. "I specifically asked you to make sure he did not disappear."

Marian shrugged politely, smiling at the older man as if he was her own father. "I did warn you I would fail," she said affectionately.

"Yes, you and that dratted ambassador were most articulate in Thomas's defense this afternoon. At least one of you bothered to show up this evening," the King recalled with a quiver of his thin white mustache. Lacey smiled at him, almost taller than him in her slightly heeled slippers. "I apologize for my son, Princess. He's rather stubborn."

"I suppose he gets that from his father?" Lacey teased, rewarded with the King's pinking cheeks.

"Hmph," he coughed, squaring his shoulders. "Marian did warn me you were a flirt," he grumbled good-naturedly. "I suppose there isn't much I can do to convince you to marry my son and save him from himself?"

"I'm afraid not," Lacey said with a grin. "But I doubt he could do better than Lady Ella."

"Lady Ella? Never heard of her," he mused. "Fourth Kingdom as well?"

"First," Lacey replied, as they arrived back at the salon. The King made an interested noise, and Lacey was confident he was making a mental note to check on noble women of age named Ella. Servants hurried over with full goblets of wine. The King glowed as he held his up to hers in a toast. They made short work of their first glass after that, moving the talk to Thomas as a leader and heir before his childhood.

"No," Lacey laughed, glancing over at a blushing Marian. "They did what with the honey?"

"Thought themselves clever," the king chuckled. "Though I couldn't tell who was more embarrassed, Thomas' mother, rest her soul, or Marian's poor father."

At this point, a noble sidled up to them and began to hover, looking harried. The King sighed. "I should be attending to matters of state," he said sadly. "Instead of charming young women of eligible age."

"Your Majesty," Marian offered. "Perhaps I could escort Princess Belle in your absence?"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" The King said gruffly to her, a smile in his eyes. "Avoid the second sons lurking around here wanting to make a wife out of you."

"They'd have to catch me first," Marian whispered to Lacey as the King lumbered away to his business. "Now, shall we go check on the happy couple or-?"

"I," Lacey interrupted, "want to know about your secret rendezvous, after I get another glass of wine."

"Food first," Marian suggested, walking her over to the buffet style table. "That's your fourth glass in under an hour."

"Touche," Lacey conceded, helping herself to a large slice of ham. Marian found them a quiet nook to eat in the hall, continuing to bring Lacey plates until she was stuffed and her bodice uncomfortably tight. "Enough," Lacey groaned. "I'm beginning to see why the King made you whatever it was."

"Castellan," Marian said, looking at her curiously. "Doesn't your family have one?"

"Honestly?" Lacey sighed, holding her side where a sharp pain had started. "I haven't a clue."

"Excuse me for saying this," Marian said with amusement. "But you're a rather odd princess."

Lacey grinned at her, standing up as another server appeared by her side with a fresh cup of wine. "You know," Lacey told Marian, joining her to move to the door. "You shouldn't say such things after your King just told me such wonderful stories about what you and Thomas thought acceptable behavior concerning livestock."

"We set them free," Marian snorted. "How were we to know you aren't supposed to ride pigs into battle?"

A nearby noble woman looked scandalized and Lacey had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing out loud. Marian seamlessly escorted them into the main hallway, still rather crowded as people continued to arrive. "Where to?" Marian asked.

Lacey deciding, didn't see them at first. However, it was hard not to. With their giant puffy fringe dresses, one in pink and one in green, it was almost impossible to miss the Stepdaughters Tremaine or their imposing mother, who stood nearly a foot taller than most of the other women.

"Oh, them," Marian sighed, noticing where Lacey's gaze had fallen. "They were the reason I was hiding in the tapestry hall last night. The mother is a ghoul, got one of the weakling lords from up north to introduce her to me. She hoped to get the prince's attention through his dearest friend, and instead ended up insulting me for a quarter of an hour before I gave her the slip."

"Befriend the prince's best friend, win his heart?" Lacey asked, and Marian nodded sorely.

"It's as if they don't think every other woman has tried that in the history of our lives," Marian grumbled. "Let's go this way, I don't care much to listen to their prattling on for an hour."

Lacey allowed her to lead the way, but the memory of Lady Tremaine's job offer stayed in her head. She'd have to ask Marian about Thomas's intentions tonight, or risk Ella losing her one chance at happiness.

* * *

_Inspiration Board: post/137107390012/the-gate-chapter-25-inspiration-board (Does anyone look at this? Just curious cause it takes a fair amount of time and I could always just skip it.)_

_Well, some interesting plot developments in this chapter namely of Lady Tremaine's plans for Ella. This chapter was me getting to exercise some muscles in the 'game of thrones' intrigue department, although I had more fun with Lacey and Marian being sassy because those two are a joy to write together._


	26. Chapter 26

_Second, I would like to warn readers that this next chapter has an attempted rape. There is a struggle, words are exchanged and please feel free to skip if this is at all triggering._

* * *

Everywhere they went, they were approached by curious nobles, matrimonial-bent mothers and the occasional drunken idiot. Marian handled them all with grace and ease, deflecting, confounding and sometimes simply eluding them. Lacey, going on four hours of sleep and more than four glasses of wine, followed along, enjoying herself immensely.

It was only when they managed to make it back to the library, closing the door shut firmly behind them, that they were able to relax. "Honestly," Marian scoffed. "You think they'd never seen a princess before!"

"Are they really so rare here?" Lacey asked, sinking down into the closest cushioned seat. "The one fellow practically proposed marriage on the spot."

"We have one or two princesses here," Marian said thoughtfully. "You know the various realms in our kingdom, I presume?"

Lacey shot her an incredulous look and Marian laughed. "You must have been the scourge of your tutors, Belle," Marian chuckled. "The First Kingdom has three realms. Here in the southernmost realm, Thomas is the only heir."

"So, why host a ball?" Lacey asked. Eric's ball had only been announced when the prince had absolutely refused every princess he had met in his travels. It had been clear even to her that the whole affair was not the proper way for a prince to find a wife. "Shouldn't he have princesses lining up to marry him?"

Marian sighed, playing with one of the pink frills layering her dress. "Before the war, he was betrothed," Marian said quietly. "Then, the great divide came over the land to the west and before we knew it, we were at war."

Lacey made a small noise of sympathetic interest, curious to hear more. "No one thought it would come to that. But one thing led to another and the next thing we knew, we were fighting for the unknown lands past the horizon," Marian explained quietly, her voice low and wavering slightly as if the memories were still too fresh to discuss.

"Thomas was betrothed to the princess from the northernmost lands but her father broke off the engagement when the war came. She married the Middle Realm's second son to cement some treaty between their two lands. At that point, no one expected Thomas to even survive the war, himself especially."

"But he did," Lacey reminded Marian.

Marian nodded, but she did not look reassured. "So, he did, and here we are a year later, with nothing to show except our pride."

"So, it was an internal war?" Lacey asked, remembering her own world's history well enough to guess the consequences for the losing side.

"That's a way of putting it I suppose," Marian shrugged. "For ten years, there were skirmishes and battles in the western lands of the First Kingdom. Too many men died in the war, leaving their women behind penniless. Although we were fortunate, the Middle Realm's economy is desolated and the Northern Realm lost their King. The royal family is still in chaos, too many heirs fighting for the throne."

"All that over some land?" Lacey shook her head and let out a low whistle of disbelief. "No offense, but that's seems foolish. It's not even as if it's near here. What would you all have done with it?"

Marian quirked an eyebrow at her. "Princess Belle," she said quietly but firmly. "Despite my lowly station, I am well aware of the other kingdoms, including your own home's major histories and family rivalries. Simply because you are in the middle of a great peace brought about by the house of Snow does not mean you can judge others." Marian looked like a statue there in the firelight. Her usual rosy cheeks were unsmiling, eyes blank in the dark shadows encroaching around her.

In the silence, it clicked why so many women of this kingdom, near her own age, were unmarried still. Why Lady Tremaine hoped to sell her stepdaughter off to someone willing to take her, or why Thomas could not believe Ella would return to the castle. They had all lost hope, and were now simply clinging to practicality.

"I'm sorry," Lacey mumbled, flicking some nonexistent lint off her skirts. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't fair."

"No," Marian sighed into the space between them. She looked empty and unsure of herself, a private moment that Lacey was intruding upon. "Nothing about any of this is fair."

"Hey," Lacey nudged, trying to change the subject. "What about your secret meeting last night? You promised to tell me all about it."

"I don't believe 'promised' is the right word," Marian corrected gently. This new subject did not seem to distract Marian, instead her eyes grew sadder and her hands clenched tighter around each other in her lap.

"Marian," Lacey needled gently. "What is it? I can't understand unless you tell me."

For a moment, Marian wavered. Lacey sat silently, watching the other woman in the firelight. "There were people who lived in the west lands," Marian said finally. "Our three realms lied to them. Cheated them. Then they began to steal from them, killing them when that failed. We went to war with each other over their lands, and innocent people were caught in the middle of it."

Lacey, at a loss, nodded hesitatingly. This had seemingly nothing to do with Marian's midnight visitor. Marian glanced over at her, as if she had forgotten she was there and exhaled deeply. Her bosom swelled and fell, neatly on display in her same pink monstrosity of a dress. "If Thomas knew-" Marian began, before clenching her skirts tighter in her white knuckled fists. "If the King knew!"

Bewildered, Lacey watched in silence as two large tears began to roll down Marian's full cheeks, collecting at her rounded jaw. "There's still pockets of resistance in the west," she shared through sniffles. "But they need help…"

"Marian," Lacey whispered, realizing what the woman could not manage to say out loud. "Are you helping them?"

A short jerky nod was her response before Marian jumped to her feet and stormed about the room. "They're dying," she cried out. Lacey shrank back into her chair, careful to lift her feet out of the way as Marian stomped by. "Because of us. If Thomas knew, if he realized-"

"Stop," Lacey urged Marian. Standing, she caught hold of her hands in her own. "It's alright, I'm not going to say anything."

Marian's eyes were bright from tears and her lips trembled with emotion. It was an equally beautiful and pitiful sight. Lacey turned away, releasing Marian's hands as the other woman exhaled in an effort to calm down. "You're risk a great deal," Lacey told her. "Is it worth it?"

Marian simply nodded. "Yes," she said with absolute conviction.

"You love one of them," Lacey realized. It made sense. A woman as loyal as Marian would not have risked a lifelong friendship, her family name or her own ideals for much less.

Marian turned away, but she nodded. "Yes," she repeated. "But it doesn't matter. Even if I manage to make Castellan, if the King knew… if Thomas found out, I'd be sentenced to death for my crimes."

"Your crimes?" Lacey blurted. "Good God, what are you doing? Selling them trade secrets?"

Marian glanced back at her, confusion on her face. Lacey groaned, lifting a hand to her forehead as the beginnings of a headache began to form. Whether it was from lack of sleep, the wine or stress, Lacey couldn't say.

"Feeding them," Marian confessed. "Not reporting their activities in the forest, lying to the Sheriff-"

"The Sheriff," Lacey interrupted. 'That's the third time I've heard of him. Who is he?"

"The Sheriff of Nottingham is the law in our realm," Marian explained with a shudder. "It's a family position, passed down from father to son. He's not to be trifled with."

"But that's who-" Lacey began before cursing. Marian gasped at the language but Lacey ignored her. Turning and heading back towards the door, she called out, "Come on, I have to find Ella!"

"Belle!" Marian called out, hurrying to catch up with her. A few startled people in the tapestry hall scolded them as they burst out into the hall, Lacey practically sprinting as the still emotional Marian scrambled after her. "Belle, what's wrong?"

Sliding to a stop, Lacey turned around to clutch Marian's shoulders. "Her stepmother is going to marry her off to the Sheriff," Lacey told the other woman. Marian's eyes went wide but she did not look surprised. "So, I'm asking you, is your friend a good man?"

"T-Thomas?" Marian rasped as she sucked air into her lungs. "Yes but-"

"Ella's a nobleman's daughter," Lacey recalled. "So, she should be eligible?"

Marian nodded in bewilderment. "The court will have to research her family claim before they can ratify it," she began. "But-"

"No time for that," Lacey told her, releasing her to head back towards the banquet hall. A nearby clock showed there was little time left in the evening. As they burst into the hall, Lacey, nearly out of breath, grasped the archway as Marian fell into her, clinging onto her for support. Lacey scanned the crowd, looking for a recognizable face.

Lady Tremaine stood off in the shadows, alone as she watched her two daughters on the dancefloor. The stepsisters were garishly bright, two tall feathers in their hair, marking them clearly. Nowhere however did Lacey see the tall figures of the Prince or Ella among the crowd.

"Do you see them?" she asked Marian, who shook her head.

"Maybe they went to the garden?" Marian suggested. "Thomas is fond of them-"

"I don't think Ella is the garden type," Lacey said, remembering Ella's embarrassment the previous night. Marian blushed too, realizing what she had just inferred.

"No, I mean- he would want to go somewhere so they could be alone."

"Well, the garden is full of lovers, they aren't dancing and the library was empty when we left. Where else could they be?"

Marian huffed at her. "It's a castle, Belle," she reminded her. "Full of secret passageways that Thomas knows like the back of his own hand-"

"Aha! There you are!"

The King was approaching them, a small cloud of annoyed looking nobles hurrying after him. He took Lacey's hand in his, clasping it tightly before bringing it to his lips. "A sight for sore eyes," he said with a wink. "Marian, my dear. Would you see that the lords here find the wine cellar without me?"

He seemed oblivious to their anxiety but his words gave Lacey an idea. Perhaps Thomas had taken Ella down to show her the wine collection. She caught Marian's eyes, mouthing, 'The wine cellar?' and Marian nodded back to her before smoothly answering the king. "Of course, Your Majesty. Gentleman," Marian said, turning to the pack of disappointed men. "If you'd follow me."

"Finally," the King sighed as they departed. "I thought I would have to die of boredom to get rid of them. Although," he mused in resignation. "They'd probably keep on talking over me regardless."

"Your Majesty," Lacey said, hoping to distract him from his current thoughts. "You haven't seen your son or the Lady Ella, by chance?"

He thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Can't say that I have," he answered. The music changed from a waltz to a more uptempo choice and the King brightened. "Now, how about a dance?"

"Your Majesty," came a low pitched voice from behind Lacey's left shoulder. The King sighed unpleasantly, twisting her around so Lacey came to face the man who had been behind her. He was huge, towering broadly over Lacey and the King as he looked down upon them.

"Nottingham," the King greeted tensely. "Enjoying the festivities?"

"Quite," the man replied with a crooked smile. "Although up to now, the decorations were lacking." He raked his gaze over Lacey, holding brashly on her bosom before sliding smartly back to the King. "We haven't been introduced," he said to the King.

"Ah," the King said faintly. "This is Princess Belle. She's visiting from the Fourth Kingdom."

Nottingham peered down at her with interest and Lacey found herself growing uncomfortable under his gaze. "Nottingham, at your service, Your Royal Highness."

"Your Majesty!" came a harried gasp beside them, as an older thin man appeared at their side. "The ambassador- he's not in his rooms, sir!"

The King's entire demeanor changed within seconds. Lacey blinked, watching as the jovial butterball of a charmer turned into a head of state. "Damn him," the King growled. "Find him immediately. I will not have a spy roaming the halls-" Catching himself, he nodded curtly to the man before him, before turning to Lacey with an apologetic frown. "My dear, I'm afraid I must attend to this matter."

"I'll be happy to take her off your hands," Nottingham replied, bowing. And that, was how Lacey found herself being swept on to the dance floor with the noxious Sheriff of Nottingham.

"Watch it," she snarled as he moved closer to her than necessary. He smiled but there was no warmth or humor in it. It was more of a calculated response, meant for those around them and not for her.

"Your Royal Highness," Nottingham murmured. "This is how we dance here in the Southern Realm." He tightened his hands around her, hard enough to bruise.

Lacey bit back a gasp, wrenching his hand off her and shooting him a death-defying look of vitriol. "I'm afraid I'm feeling faint," Lacey hissed, massaging her hand. "Excuse me."

Making her way off the dance floor, she tried to remember which way Marian had gone, only to find Nottingham following her. She twisted on her heel, staring up at his too close-set eyes. "Leave me alone," she told him.

"A princess without a chaperone?" he murmured. "What would the King say?"

Lacey opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought, when she spotted Lady Tremaine from the corner of her eye, watching them. "Shit," Lacey murmured to herself, just low enough that the Sheriff, puzzled, leaned down closer to her.

If Lady Tremaine hoped to marry Ella off to this charlatan, she would not take kindly to anyone else paying him attention. The last thing Lacey needed to do was draw Lady Tremaine's attention to herself. She did not know how strong the Imp's charms would work when faced with direct scrutiny.

"Fine," she decided, not wanting to draw any further attention to herself. "I'm in need of some air."

"This way," Nottingham said gamely, taking her arm in his despite her resistance. He made quick work exiting the dance hall, barely pausing as he continued to guide her.

"If you see the Prince," Lacey managed to get out. "I need to speak to him."

Nottingham laughed, another reaction completely lacking warmth or humor. "I'm sure you do," he agreed. "But I believe he's rather occupied at the moment."

"Ugh," Lacey grumbled, tugging at her arm. "You can let go now-"

"I would never risk losing you in such a press," Nottingham replied smoothly, pressing her arm closer to his chest and cutting off some circulation. "We're almost outside."

"Wait," Lacey began to dig in her heels, the cloth slippers doing little against Nottingham boldly drag her along the smooth marble surfaces of the hall. A few people noticed them, whispering behind fans but no one dared intervene. She wondered if it was because she was a princess or if Nottingham inspired that much fear in people.

"Here we are," he boomed, flinging a door open to an outdoor walkway. The moons were clouded now, the promise of rain in the air. Lacey shivered, feeling her nipples tighten and the hair along her arms rise.

"Well," Nottingham whispered, moving closer. "I see the fresh air is doing you some good."

"Kindly fuck off," Lacey hissed up at him, forgoing her princess manners. She knew men like this. They did not listen to reason or politeness. She sorely missed her can of mace and a good stilletto.

Nottingham caught her upper arm in one of his meaty fists, nearly hauling her off the ground as he wrenched her towards him. "What a mouth," he teased, one hand coming up to trace the outlines of it. Lacey tried to wrench her arm out of his grasp, but he tightened it.

"Get your hands off me," Lacey demanded, wriggling in a very unprincess-like manner. Her tiara caught him in the chin, and he recoiled, blinking down at her as he rubbed his jaw. A droplet of blood welled up from the small cut and Lacey grinned at it.

"Feisty," Nottingham noted. "Good. That's my favorite kind to break."

Staring at him in utter bewilderment, Lacey found herself saying," I am a princess, you-"

Nottingham did not let her finish. He wrenched her tiara from her head and flung it off into the darkness. She heard it clatter, rolling for a moment, its metallic echoing loud against her own hard breathing before it fell silent.

"There," Nottingham whispered, into the curve of her neck. "Now, you're just another woman. Tell me, pet," he panted as his hands started to twist her bare skin, burning her. "Are you a screamer?"

"I'm not giving you the pleasure of finding out," Lacey assured him, as she lifted her knee straight up into his groin. The large man grunted, his hands relaxing just enough for her to push backwards, falling down in an ungraceful heap on her ass. Staring up at the purple-faced caveman, Lacey began to back up on her hands and knees, crab-crawling backwards away from the castle and him.

"You little bitch," Nottingham said darkly, straightening. He stood there watching her, and Lacey realized she had just poked a bear. "You'll pay for that one."

Not trusting herself to get to her feet, knowing the time it took for her to straighten would mean he could be upon her, Lacey stayed crouched, ready to roll away or kick if he tried to grab her again. "I'm going to have your head," Lacey promised him. "Attacking a princess of the royal blood!"

"You're no princess," Nottingham laughed. "You might have them fooled, but I know better."

Lacey froze, as Nottingham smiled down at her. "Oh, yes. At the edge of the forest, a little birdie saw you cross the border with two brats. Imagine my surprise when the same little birdie told me you were dancing in the King's halls, wearing a tiara and pretending to be a royal. I must say, I was rather intrigued. Besides, I've checked with some of my contacts. There's no Princess Belle in the Fourth Kingdom or any other.

"So tell me," Nottingham asked, moving closer to her. "Are you going to behave or am I going to have to arrest you for impersonating a royal?"

"Fuck you," Lacey spat, muscles tense as she prepared to fight or flee.

"Thought you'd never ask," Nottingham chuckled. In the next second, he pounced, reaching down to grab her ankles through her skirts. Lacey was ready for him, with a fierce kick, she caught him in the jaw with her right foot, before rolling over and lashing out with her left foot, catching him in the shoulder and unbalancing him.

Scrambling to her knees, Lacey attempted to stand, only to find her curls being yanked backwards as Nottingham seized her from behind. One meaty paw, wrapped around her stomach, groping her as Lacey gagged at the feel of him surrounding her. Her eyes teared up as he pulled her head back, smiling down at her as her neck bent nearly in two even as he held her back straight.

"I'll enjoy this," Nottingham told her, tracing the tendons of her neck with his eyes.

"Not as much as I'm going to enjoy watching you die," Lacey assured him, wincing as he tugged her hair tighter, his hand twisting her right breast violently, the fabric shifting to reveal her corset. Nottingham merely chuckled, bending down to bite her lips, swallowing the cry she made as her neck began to strain at the unnatural angle.

"You may be laughing now," Lacey growled, fighting to keep fear off her face and out of her voice. Defiance was all she had now, and she intended to use it. "You wouldn't if you knew what I was capable of. What you'll be when I'm through with you."

"Scary," Nottingham laughed, the first trace of actual amusement he had shown so far.

A memory stirred. '_You're like us. A monster…_'

She held it close to her, letting it warm her shaking hands and frozen limbs as she tried to be brave. She had to keep her head. Regardless of Nottingham's position of power, if she could get an audience, she could prevent this- just long enough for-

The next moment, Nottingham had spun her around, slamming her against one of the arches, facing away from the castle. With the air knocked out of her, Lacey could not find the breath to call for help, instead struggling as Nottingham attempted to manhandle her dress off her shoulders. Her legs were struggling but he had her hips pinned with his own, his breath rotten in her nose.

"Come on then," he panted. Lacey hissed, trying to twist her hands into claws to tear against him. He however was too large, using his body weight to keep her immobile against the cold stone. "Show me how a royal whore fucks-"

This wasn't happening, Lacey told herself as she tried to struggle, panic beginning to color her vision. She was not about to be raped at a ball. This was not happening- this was not happening. She tried to draw breath to scream again, even realizing that if the clock struck midnight in the moments between now and then, if she was found to be nothing more than a magically assisted maid, Nottingham would be able to arrest her and possibly even Ella too.

"Hands off the lady, Nottingham."

Lacey felt Nottingham twist away from her, and she used his distraction to her advantage. Going boneless, she collapsed to the side, and he was unable to hold on to her from his current twisted position. She slammed against the ground, just at Nottingham bent to grab her again.

"Not so fast," the newcomer ordered. The clouds had parted during her struggle, and now standing in the moonlight was Robin Hood, his bow and arrow carefully aimed at Nottingham. "Back up."

Nottingham grumbled, but complied. Moving until his back was against the arch as Lacey rolled to her feet, clutching her torn gown as she spat blood and saliva at Nottingham's face in the darkness. "Bastard," she snarled. "You alone?" Lacey panted, moving over to Robin. Her hero nodded, eyes dark, his usual amusement gone, as he stared down the Sheriff.

"Ha!" Nottingham barked. "You're trespassing, halfbreed. I'll have your hide for this."

"I'd be quiet if I were you," Robin warned, not moving a muscle. Lacey glanced up at the moon, wishing to hell she could tell time by the sky. It would come in handy right about now. "You alright?" Robin asked her, oblivious to her private concerns.

"I will be when you put that arrow in between his eyes," Lacey replied, enjoying watching Nottingham pinned to the arch on his own accord.

"You need to get out of here," Robin advised. "Before the guards come."

"Like hell," Lacey snorted. "He's a rapist and probably worse."

"He's also the law in this land," Robin pointed out. In a whisper, he continued. "You need to get Ella and go."

"How do you know Ella's here?"

"Tell Marian I'm sorry," Robin whispered back, answering her question neatly. In a moment, everything from earlier clicked into place. So, Robin Hood was Marian's secret. Lacey realized not for the first time, how little she knew about everything around her.

Taking advantage of this momentary confusion, Nottingham shifted. Robin's whole stance stiffened, taking a step forward. "You know I won't miss from this distance, Nottingham," Robin reminded him.

From the distance, they could hear a clatter of footsteps. "That'd be the hourly guard," Nottingham said, relaxing a fraction of an inch. "And here's the most wanted outlaw in the lands, with a bow and arrow to the Sheriff."

"You need to go, Belle," Robin told her. "If someone finds you out here like this, you'll be ruined."

"He-" Lacey started.

Robin's temper frayed and snapped. "He'll tell them I attacked you," he ground out. "And they'll believe him over you or me, trust me on this. You need to get out of here."

"I'm going to get help," Lacey decided, moving towards the entrance of the castle. "The King won't stand for this."

"Run along, pet," Nottingham hissed as she passed him. She ignored him, quickening her pace. "Just you and me then," she heard Nottingham growl as she disappeared past him towards the door. Just as she made it inside, she ran straight into someone in pink frills.

"Belle!" Marian grunted, even as someone else caught Lacey and hauled her back upright.

"Ella!" Lacey said in relief, grasping her gloved hands in her. "There you are!"

"It's almost midnight!" Ella whispered to her, under the guise of holding her up. "We have to go!"

"What happened to you?" Marian asked, moving between them. Ella gasped, reaching out for the torn tassels, but Lacey brushed her away.

"Nottingham," Lacey managed with a shudder. Marian opened her mouth to speak but Lacey cut her off. "Robin's got him outside. I need to get the King-"

"Robin!" Marian repeated, already moving towards the entrance. "No, they'll kill him!"

Ella caught her, holding her back even as the clock began to chime midnight. "Marian!" Lacey exclaimed. "We need a way out-"

Marian, too focused on trying to get outside, barely paid her any heed. Ella was struggling to hold her back, nearly a foot taller than the short plump woman but struggling to keep her grip. Lacey stepped bodily in front of her, and snapped her fingers under Marian's nose. This at the effect of getting Marain to focus on her, the issue however was now she had a very pissed off woman who neatly smacked her across the face.

"Okay," Lacey wheezed, holding her cheek where she was certain a small handprint was now reddening. "Got that out of your system?"

Marian deflated, as the cries of guards from outside alerted the trio to Robin's current situation. The clock in the distance finished chiming and the familiar white light flared up, leaving both Lacey and Ella back in their soot stained work dresses. Marian's eyes were full of tears as she stared in disbelief between the two of them.

"Magic?" she asked, hoarse. "You're-"

"We didn't mean to hurt anyone," Ella whispered, releasing Marian. The Castellan in training turned to them wordlessly. "I just wanted a chance to come to the ball-"

"And you?" Marian demanded, turning to Lacey who nodded in reply. "I can't believe this. No, I can believe this, I should have known something was wrong. Are your names even Belle and Ella?"

No, Lacey thought to herself.

"Yes," Ella reassured Marian, trying to calm the other woman down.

"None of that matters right now," Lacey reminded them. " If someone finds us like this, Nottingham's going to have three women in the stocks alongside Robin in the morning."

Marian looked conflicted for a moment, her eyes falling shut as a tear slipped out. When she opened them, she had a steel-eyed look of determination on her face. "This way," she ordered, heading towards the salon.

Ella slipped off her glass slippers before she fell in step beside Lacey, looking at her in silent question as they followed Marian. As they reached an alcove, Marian tugged a piece of armor beside it, and a door swung open, revealing the outside, the woods just beyond the horizon.

"Go into the woods. There's a trail that will lead you to the edge of the castle lands. A man is in the gate there, tell him Marian sent you and he'll let you pass. Follow the main road back and you should be able to find your way home," Marian instructed tonelessly. Her eyes flickered to Ella, standing there towering over them in the dark. "Give me your shoes," she demanded.

Ella glanced down in confusion, clutching them harder to her chest. Marian sighed. "If someone catches you with those, they'll assume you stole them."

"But-" Ella started just as Lacey reached over and plucked them from her hands. She handed them to Marian who nodded. "Thank you," Ella breathed, catching Marian's hands in hers.

"Don't thank me yet," Marian murmured, shaking the other woman off. "Quick now, before Nottingham sends someone looking for you."

It was a long night.

By the time Lacey and Ella stumbled into the kitchen, it was just before dawn. Ella's feet were covered in scratches, bloody and dirty from their night hike. Lacey had encouraged her, unable to do much more than walk ahead of her and try to watch for rocks, twigs, or roots. She remembered all too well her own night walking through the forest barefoot, and knew Ella's quiet, grim determination to remain silent did not mean she was not in pain.

When they stumbled into the kitchen, the embers were barely lit, the cold of the night creeping through the house proper. Both women had been quiet, barely holding their own heads up whether from exhaustion or despair. Lacey collapsed onto the nearest stool as Ella stood in the doorway, glancing back the way they had come.

"Was it worth it?" Ella asked. Lacey remained silent, knowing Ella was not asking her.

"I rather doubt it." Lady Tremaine stood in the shadows, eyes cruel and gleaming. In her hands, she held a small crossbow, the arrow aimed directly at Ella's chest. "Now, I think it's time for us girls to have a little heart-to-heart, hmm, Cinderella?"

* * *

_And with that, the second night of the Ball is over._

_Marian is still in the castle with Thomas and the King. Robin is at the mercy of the Sheriff and Ella and Lacey at the mercy of Lady Tremaine. Our beloved Imp is up to his own devices at the moment, but he is closer than you all may think._


	27. Chapter 27

Things could be worse.

Those were the words Lacey repeated to Ella over and over again in the hours they were locked up. After the key slid shut in the door, Lacey held Ella for a bit, combing out the knots in her black hair as Ella cried herself hoarse.

Lacey repeated the words over the other woman's sobs. She repeated them as they laid down next to each other. Ella's sniffles soon became the sound of soft breathing as sleep finally took her. Lacey, too tired to stay awake, soon followed after her.

When they woke in the early afternoon, their stomachs were cramped with hunger and their throats burned with thirst. Lacey repeated the refrain as they stared out the window, watching autumn take the trees below. When the call of nature became too strong, they used an old chamber pot in the corner; they had to break the window open to be able to breathe again.

As fresh air blew into the room, Ella caught Lacey's eyes. "Don't even say it." And so, Lacey didn't.

In what must be her first day off in years, Ella seemed lost. She did not know what to do with herself. She tried to sweep, tried to tidy up but she soon finished, sitting back down on the floor beside Lacey and staring out into the afternoon. Below them, the house was silent except the occasional sound of a cat's calls, curious and close as if watching from just beyond the closed door.

Ella's hands, cracked and rough, shook slightly in the autumn air; from chill or fear, Lacey wasn't quite sure. They passed the day in relative silence, the occasional creak of a floorboard causing them both to freeze, to listen to the hall outside for any sound. No mention of the ball, the prince or the future passed between them until the sun began to set and the sound of footsteps on the landing outside caused them both to rise.

As the lock clicked free, Lady Tremaine entered, carrying a tray and wrinkling her nose at the smell in the room. "Why, girls," she clucked, putting down the tray. Lacey could see bread and cheese and what looked like ham on two plates, a pitcher of water and two cups beside them. "It smells dreadful in here. Cinderella, surely you could have emptied the chamber pot? What else could you have been doing up here all day?"

"Let us out," Lacey demanded, stepping boldly forward. Without blinking, Lady Tremaine patted her pocket, a cold twisted smile on her sunken cheeks.

"Careful," the older woman warned, staring her down. Lacey broke her gaze just long enough to glance down, seeing the handle of a knife peeking out of the fabric of the skirt's folds.

Lacey took another step forward. "I'm not afraid of you," she growled.

"Belle," Ella whispered, appearing beside her and catching her arm. Startled, Lacey paused. Ella's eyes were full of tears. "Stop. Please."

"Ella," Lacey whispered in amazement. "This is insane. You have every right-"

"She has no rights in this household," Lady Tremaine snapped. "Nor do you, wench."

Bristling, Lacey lifted a warning finger. "Careful," Lacey snarled. "I'm not some abused little girl you can bully around."

Lady Tremaine's eyebrows rose just a fraction of an inch, but her cheeks colored slightly and her eyes lit with a cold fury. "Well," she whispered, nodding solemnly to them both. She remained utterly still other than that small movement, her hands at her sides. "I'm afraid the girls and I must be going. We're attending dinner at the Reynolds Estate before the royal decree tonight."

"Royal decree?" Ella asked, stepping just beyond Lacey. Her eyes were bright from tears; her hair filthy with dust and soot. She was a walking contradiction- beauty in disarray, hope in the darkness, kindness in misery.

Her stepmother barely blinked at her. "Why, yes, Cinderella," she murmured. "The Prince has chosen his bride. He plans to announce it this eve, at the conclusion of the ball."

"No," Ella breathed out, voice breaking ever so slightly.

Lady Tremaine nodded. "Imagine the scandal when his chosen bride not only fails to appear." Here, the woman paused, a smile cutting across her sharp features like a knife's blade. "What will they say when not a day later, it's announced that the long-lost daughter of Baron Tremaine has been found conspiring with the band of thieves and murderers that call themselves the Merry Men? The very ones whose leader is scheduled to be held on trial tomorrow."

The knife edge gleamed bright now, the pearl white teeth flashing as the sun sliced a single light across Lady Tremaine's thin figure. "Why, the Prince would be disgraced. No, I'm afraid he'll be forced to settle for one of the daughters of the lesser nobility. Either that or risk losing the crown to the North Realm's growing reach."

"Thomas won't care," Ella vowed. She stared her stepmother down, taking a step forward in her bare feet. Lady Tremaine's hand plunged into her pocket as she tensed for the attack. It did not come. Instead, Ella shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks as she said, "He won't care what they say. He loves me."

"Love?" Lady Tremaine asked in bewilderment before she abruptly began to laugh. Ella's face crumbled, but she stood her ground. "Why, you poor fool," her stepmother finally said. " You think love can win over logic? Over the way of things? Love," she continued derisively, "only exists in stories. There is no room for love in the real world, child. Your prince is no different than any other man in this world. You mistake infatuation for love, lust for passion, and his lies as truth. He does not love you. He loves the idea of you. A meek little wife, a pretty little picture he can take out when he wants to look at it."

Ella shook her head, turning her head ever so slightly to catch Lacey's eye. "Belle," she whispered. "Tell her she's wrong."

Lacey bowed her head, avoiding the pleading look in Ella's eyes. No matter how much she wanted to believe in the prince, she had barely spoken to him. She did not know him like she had known Eric, who even then had surprised her with his devotion to Ariel. But Eric had been a beloved prince of an affluent and prosperous kingdom, not a war-torn country on the brink of collapse. As much as she hated to admit it, Lacey agreed. From everything she had seen and heard, Prince Thomas could not afford to marry for love.

"See?" Lady Tremaine crowed. "Even the little loudmouth agrees with me. You know nothing of the way of the world, Cinderella," she said with a slight shake of her head. "You'll see."

"Hey," Lacey protested, eyes flashing as her head snapped up. Ella, startled, jumped a bit, dashing away the tears pooling in her eyes. "She may not see things like we do," Lacey said, "but she's a better person than you or I will ever be."

"Enough," Lady Tremaine sighed. "I simply came to bring you provisions. In the morning, when I return, you'll be free to go."

"Go?" Ella squeaked. "Go where?"

Lady Tremaine did not do as anything undignified as shrug, but her small courtesy was as similar to the gesture as it could be. "Wherever it is that thieves and liars go, I suppose," she said demurely, before she turned to leave.

"Wait a minute," Lacey demanded, moving to intercept the door. However, the old crone was too fast for her. Within a moment, the large oak door swung shut in Lacey's face, her fists hitting hard wood even as her hand grasped for the knob. The metallic sound of the key sliding home rang in the silence of the attic as the footsteps started away towards the second floor stairs.

"Hey!" Lacey called out, slamming her fists against the door. "You can't just leave us here!"

"She can," Ella said behind her. The other woman moved to the window, the darkness beginning to settle even as the moons began to rise over the forests at the edge of the horizon. "She's won."

From below, they heard the sound of the front door closing and then the sound of a carriage, the hired coach for the ladies, rolling away into the night. Moving to the window, they watched as it disappeared from sight. Ella's eyes fluttered shut as she pressed her forehead against the window.

Lacey however refused to give up. "He'll come," she declared, settling down onto the floor, crossing her legs under her to wait.

"Who?" Ella asked, turning to stare down at her.

"Your fairy godfather or whatever he is," Lacey said. "He'll come."

Ella turned back to the window. After a moment, she asked, "Belle, have you ever been in love?"

Lacey opened her mouth to respond, the usual lie when she stopped herself. "No," she said simply. "I've liked some more than others, wanted a few so badly I couldn't think straight but no. I've never loved anyone."

Ella turned to look down at her, shaking her head. The moons grew brighter in the sky outside, framing her dark hair with silver. "Surely, you've loved someone. Your parents at least."

Lacey began to toy with a splintered floorboard, poking and prodding the sharp edges with the pad of her thumb. The slight pain kept her centered away from the thoughts that tried to reach out and grasp her. She pressed harder. "Yeah," she murmured. "I guess I loved them."

"You guess?" Ella asked, moving to sink down beside her. "Don't you know?"

"I don't know," Lacey grumbled. "My mother died when I was young. Dad died a few years ago."

"But-"

"Love is weakness," Lacey said, her voice low. She kept her eyes on her hands, ignoring Ella's gaze. "I've seen what loves does to people, Ella."

"So have I."

Lacey lifted her head to find Ella staring sadly at her. "Oh, that's rich," Lacey laughed, breaking off a splinter in her fingers. "Look, I don't need your pity." She flicked her piece of wood over at Ella. The woman flinched slightly as it bounced off her knee. "I don't need love or companionship. I was doing just fine on my own."

"And now?" Ella asked her, reaching out to take her hands in her own warm ones. Lacey allowed it, simply because her hands were cold enough to be shaking. Now that the sun had set, the room was rapidly cooling.

"Now, what?" Lacey snorted.

"How are you doing now?" Ella repeated. "Locked in an attic with someone you barely know."

"I've had better days," Lacey cracked a smile, shrugging one shoulder as she shifted her weight off her legs. It had the added bonus of forcing Ella to release her hands, leaving the other woman safely a few feet away again.

As the moonlight reached the top of the sky, Ella glanced forlornly back over her shoulder. There would be no transformation in the garden tonight. The moment was gone. Lacey wondered if somewhere, the wasted magic was finding its way back to the Imp, letting him know something was wrong.

"My father loved my mother," Ella said softly. The other woman seemed intent on ignoring the obvious, dwelling on the past instead of thinking of their future. "He almost died when she did." Lacey did not respond to this; she simply sat there, waiting for Ella to continue. "When Father brought her home…" Ella did not need to say her name; they both knew who she was referring to. "He told me that love was a choice. That we could open our hearts to others and learn to love them, for who they are."

Lacey couldn't resist. "Did he honestly believe that?"

Ella did not reply, she simply shook her head. "He loved me. I know that, but I don't think he could love anyone else, not like mother. And Stepmother...she knew it. Even before he died, I knew she was unhappy. I tried. For him, for her, for mother…. to love her."

"Ella," Lacey said with a sigh. "Sometimes there are people you have to cut loose. Toxic people, no matter what you do, aren't going to change."

"She's my family," Ella protested. "Father would have wanted me-"

"Your father," Lacey interrupted, "would have wanted you to be loved and cared for, not taking care of that heartless bitch and her brainless kids. He would have wanted you to stand up for yourself, not sold off like cattle to the first suitor who'd have you."

Lacey fell quiet, her words ringing in the ar between them. Ella staring down at the floor, stunned realization painted across her face. A small streak of ash on her cheek was smudged from tears.

"Jesus, Ella," Lacey sighed as her words failed her. "I didn't mean to tell you like that."

"Who?" Ella asked, eyes locked on a warped board between them. Her voice shook slightly, but her shoulders were straight.

"Ella," Lacey repeated but Ella shook her head, eyes lifting to hers.

"Who, Belle?" she demanded, eyes flashing.

"The Sheriff," Lacey admitted. "But with everything now-"

"So, that's what she meant," Ella whispered. "He'll come to collect us in the morning then."

"Yeah but-"

Ella stood, moving back towards the window. The cracked pane whistled in the night breeze and Ella's jagged reflection stared back at them from the moonlight. Her fingers twitched towards the shards, and Lacey tried to get to her feet.

"Hey," Lacey exclaimed. "What did I say? Your Fairy whatever will come. You're not going to even have to look at that bastard"

Ella nodded sadly but she didn't say anything for a moment. "He nearly raped you last night," Ella said quietly. "If she turns us over to him, I'll do what I have to do." She caught Lacey's eyes in the glass. Gone were the tears and fear. Now, there was just a steel determination. "I'll do what I have to do to survive, Belle. I suggest you do the same."

Wrapping her hand in her apron, Ella snapped off a piece of glass and tucked it in her pocket before she resumed her vigil at the window. Lacey returned to the floor, confident that any moment, the Imp would appear in his usual shower of smoke and magic to right this.

He didn't.

The sound of a key in the lock woke Lacey. Jolting upright, she watched as Lady Tremaine waltzed into the room, the sunlight dappling the floor around her. Every bone in her body ached from the uncomfortable floor, her neck protesting at the sudden movement. Ella stood at the window, unmoved from the night before. She nodded to her stepmother. "Morning," she said politely. "Did you enjoy your ball?"

Lady Tremaine stared back at her, but Lacey saw it. A hint of agitation, a raw nerve behind the calm facade. As if Ella sensed it too, she asked, "Who is to be our new Queen?"

"The Crown Prince," Lady Tremaine murmured distastefully, "has decreed he will marry the Lady Ella, often seen in the presence of the Fourth Kingdom's Princess Belle."

Lacey felt the cold gaze fall on her and she smiled back at the older woman. "Guess that shoots a hole in your logical plan, doesn't it?"

"Shame that there is no such princess," came another voice from the corridor. From the shadows, emerged a bulky figure, dressed in evening clothes.

"You," Lacey snarled, scrambling to her feet. Her hands twisted into claws at her side as she glared at him. "You bastard!"

"My, my," Lady Tremaine gasped in mock distress. "I did tell you she had a mouth on her."

The Sheriff merely smiled wide. "I like them with spirit."

"It won't take him long to figure out who Ella is," Lacey said over them. "Half the kingdom saw her face and now they know her name."

"True," Lady Tremaine agreed. "But if she's married..."

Lacey flung an arm out between them and Ella. "You are not going to sell her to this excuse for a man. I won't let you." In her pocket, one of the shards of glass and a piece of wood from the floor sat, waiting. She might not be able to do much, but she could put his eyes out. She could at least do that.

"Belle," Ella said calmly, reaching out a cool hand and placing it on her shoulder. "Stop."

Ella stood beside her, gazing down at her. "You can't be seriously considering this," Lacey said. "He's-"

"He's a powerful man," Ella finished for her, turning to the two in the doorway. "And if I refuse to go with him, I dare say, I'll be accused of theft and sent away with him regardless. Isn't that right, Stepmother?"

"I did say she was clever," Lady Tremaine mumbled to her companion. The Sheriff grinned but his eyes remained on Lacey.

"I want that one too," he declared, tongue darting out to lick at a half healed gash on his chin. Ella grew pale, but stayed ramrod straight. Lacey did not envy her poise. Let him see her seethe. She would scratch him bloody before she let him touch her again.

Lady Tremaine regarded her a moment before she nodded. "Very well. Take the pair. But go on before my girls wake. I don't want to upset them."

The Sheriff took a menacing step forward, cracking his knuckles as he grinned down at them. Ella, however, stepped to meet him. She was just slightly shorter than him. "Enough. Sheriff, I accept your proposal." Ella announced to the room. Lacey stared on, gobsmacked.

"I pity you," Ella told her stepmother, looking past the Sheriff to where the woman lurked in the doorway. "I have tried to love you these past years, but I see now there is no love in your heart.

"As for you sir, you will not touch Belle" she declared. "You'll find me to be a jealous wife." For a moment, the two stared each other down, one pale skinned and armed with brute strength and the other tawny and slight, her will blazing like a beacon in the shadowy attic.

Lacey and Lady Tremaine were all but forgotten as the two battled out their first skirmish in what promised to be a long war.

With a bow, the Sheriff conceded. "Agreed. However, a theif and conspirator of the Merry Men should be in jail," Nottingham said. A sinking feeling began in Lacey's stomach, already queasy on the lack of food and adrenaline. "I'll send my guards up to collect her."

"Perfectly right," Lady Tremaine said even as Ella began to argue. "And congratulations on your upcoming wedding."

"My thanks," Nottingham said, grinning at them as he began to back away. "Ella, my dear," he said, silencing her attempts to protest. "I shall arrange the wedding. Tomorrow, you will be the wife of the soon-to-be most powerful man in the Kingdom."

"What?" Lacey demanded, even as Ella paled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Change is coming," the Sheriff laughed, disappearing out the door. "And you, dear wife, will be at hand to see it when it does."

"As will her family," Lady Tremaine added. It was a neutral statement, but the threat was clear.

"As will her family," the Sheriff agreed with a slight bow. "After you, Lady Tremaine."

As the door swung closed behind them, Ella sank down to her knees, breaking silently as the chatter in the hallway receded. Lacey went to the window, noticing the guards lurking just below them, waiting for orders.

"Shit," she grumbled. Hurrying back over to Ella, she sank down before her and shook her, until Ella stopped looked up at her with owl-wide eyes. "Listen to me," Lacey told her, fingers digging into the other woman's arms. "Run. The second he lets you out of his sight, run and don't look back."

"What about you? He'll-"

"I'll be fine," Lacey assured her. "I have a protector."

Ella's eyes grew alarmed. "I thought they were just scared from the woods," Ella murmured, eyes widening. Lacey watched, sickened, as the similar veil of doubt and distrust fell over Ella's features, just like all the ones before her. The children had told her then. "You work for the Dark One?" Ella whispered. "But he's a bloodthirsty nightmare, how-?"

Lacey groaned but nodded. The Dark One, honestly. The damn Imp had too many names. "Yes, the Dark One. And he's a royal pain in my ass, but he's the only way I'm going to get home."

"You're not a princess, are you?" Ella realized, taking a small step backwards. "I should have known, but I had hoped I was wrong. Belle, how could you?"

"Forget all that," Lacey said urgently, hearing the sound of boots on the stairs. "You have to promise me, Ella. Fight. Stay alive."

After a long pause, Ella nodded. The sound of a key in the lock startled them both into rising as a group of guards burst into the room. "The pale one," the leader said after a moment of consideration. "Leave the other one."

Two beefy guards, dressed in pale grey uniforms strode over, seizing Lacey and nearly knocking Ella to the ground. "Hey!" Lacey growled, kicking out at one of their booted shins. "Get your hands off me!" 

"Silence," the leader yawned. "Or we'll do it for you."

"I'd like to see you-"

Lacey did not see the club from behind, but she heard Ella's cry right before she felt it. A moment after the bright, hot burst of pain, she slid boneless to the floor and knew no more.


	28. Chapter 28

Sounds of someone arguing broke the veil of unconsciousness.

Grumbling, Lacey threw her arm over her face, desperate to stay asleep, chasing the last few thoughts of her dream. It had been interesting. She had been someone else. Someone searching for something, and if she could just go back to sleep, she might be able to find it.

"Come on, Belle," someone was whispering. "Wake up now. Show them you're more than some fainting maiden."

Memories fluttered into her conscious mind, reminding her where she was, what had happened, what was going to happen. She shuddered at them, holding her arms closer to her chest, curling in on herself to avoid it all. Still, she felt someone's eyes on the back of her neck, felt it in the way her hair stood on end, bristling. It accompanied the throbbing pain just under the crown of her head. "I didn't faint," Lacey corrected groggily, fingers going to the sore spot where the club had collided with her skull. She rolled onto her side, away from the speaker. "Now, shut up and let me go back to sleep."

A masculine laugh, short and sweet, rang out ever so briefly before Lacey felt someone's foot pressing into her back. "Now, now, none of that."

"Excuse me," Lacey growled, twisting her head over her shoulder to peer at the unwelcome nagger. "If I'm to be a prisoner, I can do whatever the hell I- Robin?"

Rolling over quickly, Lacey used her knees to launch herself at the sitting figure beside her. The man grunted as she fell on top of him, laughing as she clung to his shoulders. "There, now," he whispered into her hair. "It's alright, you're safe now."

Pressing back away from him, Lacey frowned at him in the semidarkness. "Don't be stupid," she told him. "We're anything but safe. We're prisoners of that fucking lunatic for christ's sake."

Robin blinked in bafflement. "For a lady, you speak like a sailor; has anyone ever told you that?"

"I'm not from around here," Lacey sighed, releasing him to sit back on her knees before him. He moved his arms from her back, and she heard the clinking of his chains against the stone floor. His feet were shackled too, the chain disappearing into the shadows where the walls met in the corner. She lifted a hand to his face, ghosting over the deep cut on his forehead and the purpling bruise surrounding his left eye. "They did a number on you, didn't they?" she murmured. "God, Marian must be in a state."

"She knows the way of it," Robin said easily. If Lacey had not been so close to him, she may not have noticed the way his voice faltered ever so slightly at his own lie. "She'll be fine."

"Yeah, if they don't find out she's the one who's been helping you," Lacey agreed. "Lucky for us, we've got a scapegoat." Robin lifted his right eyebrow, blood encrusted from the gash on his head. "I'm already in jail," Lacey said with a shrug of her shoulders. "What are they going to do? Arrest me again?"

"More likely to behead you," Robin corrected. "Traitor of the crown and all that."

"What is it with you people and kings?" Lacey grumbled. The dungeons around them smelled of mold and filth, a slightly sweet smell of decay making it all the more pungent. Her arms and legs were free of shackles, but she did not feel any better for it. She let her fingers roam the rough edges of the floor, finding stones and hay scattered underneath her.

She checked her pockets, hoping that the shard of glass or splinter of wood from the attic would still be there. It appeared that the guards were as thorough as they were ruthless, her pockets were empty. Beside her, Robin sat, quietly amused as she watched her pat down her pockets. "Your trial is today," she told him after a moment. "The Sheriff bragged about it to Lady Tremaine."

Robin did not wince or groan, but nodded thoughtfully. "I assumed as much," he said calmly. "Prisoners such as myself are rarely left to rot. Waste of a spectacle."

Outside, they heard a guard call from down the hall, and a riotous laughter following as booted footsteps passed just by their door. Lacey and Robin fell silent. Although they were the only prisoners in this dungeon, they remained lightly guarded. It seemed the Sheriff did not want his two prizes to be bothered.

"Well," Robin said, listening as the last footstep fell away. "Since they brought you in, they've upped the guard to three. Makes things a bit trickier, I suppose."

Lacey stood, making her way to the door. A small bolt hole was slid shut, so there was no way to see out into the hallway beyond it. Turning, she saw the windows, high slits in the wall, almost ten feet-

Twisting towards her companion with a grin, Lacey had the beginning ideas of a plan. "How tall are you?" she asked Robin.

Just tall enough it seemed. Standing on his shoulders and ignoring his well-meaning jokes about her being light as a feather, Lacey grasped the twin bars of the window, pulling herself up slightly to see outside. They were not in the castle proper, but she recognized the courtyard from the east. She and Ella had run through it just the night before, heading towards the forest gate. She whispered that down to Robin.

"And what's happening out there?" he asked, barely winded from her standing on top of him.

Lacey bit her lip, wiggling her stiff shoulders from sleeping on floors these past few nights, and tried to concentrate. The sun was high in the sky, at least late afternoon judging by the sweat stains on a few of the workers milling about. One stood just feet away from them, taking a break by leaning against his ax.

"They're building something," Lacey told Robin.

"A gallows?"

Lacey shook her head, before remembering he couldn't see her from down there. "No," she said. "More like… setting up for something or other."

There was bales of hay lying here and there, all stacked in the distance. She watched as someone leaned against one, quickly straightening it as it shifted somewhat to the left. Puzzled, she turned to peer out towards the right, when she saw the painters busy at work on their knees. Round objects covered in animal skins lay before them, red, blue, and yellow circles being added to the skins by hand.

"It's an archery range!" Lacey declared, bending down to whisper to Robin. "They're getting ready to host an archery contest!" She stilled, moving back to stare out the window, confusion on her brow. "Why the hell are they doing that?"

Robin laughed, bending down. Lacey slipped gently off his shoulders, peering back up at the window. "They hope to capture a thief," Robin said, moving back to the center of the room. His chains clinked behind him, like snakes following after their master.

"You're already captured," Lacey pointed out, joining him. She sat down on the floor, crisscrossed legs mirroring Robin's. "Bit wasteful, isn't it?"

He smiled, his dimples disappearing under his high cheekbones as his thin lips slashed into a devil-may-care grin. "Yes, but the Sheriff can't resist showing off," he told her, tweaking a stray curl that had escaped her pins. "He's going to make a game out of it. Defeat me in front of a crowd, and then preside over my execution."

Lacey sighed, flopping backwards so her arms were behind her head as she stared up at the windows along the wall. Robin joined her, she heard the chains slinking and chiming against each other as he settled. "Tell me, Robin," Lacey said in hopes of keeping the fear abated. "How does one become a bandit?"

"Someone comes to your home and takes everything you've ever known and loved," Robin answered smoothly. "You learn quickly how to take when someone shows you how."

"The war?" Lacey figured, crossing a foot over her ankle. The hairs of her leg rubbed against each other where her drawers ended, just past her knee. She remembered the feel of smooth legs in a sundress in the summer and wondered if it would be worth it to demand the Imp to provide her a razor of some sort. Some men in this world were clean shaven, surely razors existed. She felt the prickling of hair in her armpits, long enough to probably braid by now and shuddered. She missed waxings, manicures and pedicures and a good facial. God, she missed spas.

Ignorant of her musings, Robin was continuing on. "The Invasion," Robin corrected gently. "The Third Lands had always been a part of the First Kingdom. We just had tribes instead of realms, chiefs instead of princes, and freedom instead of kneeling. That changed when the pale men came."

"And you followed them back to their lands," Lacey continued, snapping out of her own thoughts on personal grooming. "Guerilla warfare on their turf?"

"I have no idea what you just said," Robin said in amusement. "I simply take from the rich, and give to the poor. They have enough here not to miss it. Besides, my people are starving in the lands beyond the castles."

"Explains why you were in the forest hiding," Lacey said, remembering how the Merry Men had faded into sight from the trees. "And Ella? How does she fit into all this?"

"Our Friar Tuck used to be a religious man from this kingdom. He came to the fronts to give last rights to the men, but when he saw how we were treated… he changed sides. Became an outlaw.

"He knew the Baron Tremaine, told us if we ever had need to go to him for aid. But he had died in the time Tuck had been away to the Free Lands. Instead, we found his daughter, nearly of age with me." Robin paused, chuckling. "She was magnificent. Used a broom to bar the doorway, and threatened Little John with a butcher knife. Wasn't until she saw Tuck that she heard us out."

Lacey laughed. "I would have liked to see that," she whispered back to him. "I've only ever seen her cow under her Stepmother."

When Robin did not respond, she twisted her head to find him staring up at the ceiling with a frown on his handsome face. "Now, Belle," he sighed. "You can't judge a person by the way they survive. I went to the earth, hiding in the leaves and letting my prey come to me. My people would have once chased us from our tribes for such cowardice. Now, we're the only resistance left."

"But what else were you supposed to do?" Lacey asked, propping herself up on her elbow. "You would have been destroyed if you tried to march against the kingdoms."

Robin lifted his bruised eyebrow, and Lacey flushed as her own argument hit home. "Oh, fine," she snapped, wrenching her eyes away. "But she could have left. She could have gotten out of there."

"We needed her," Robin sighed. "If she had left us, we would have starved in the winter months. Her little mice have kept us alive."

Lacey grimaced. "You eat the kitchen mice?" Robin began to laugh, rolling over to face her as big belly laughs shook his muscular frame. Lacey frowned at him, staying on her back, her cheek cold against the floor. "Stop laughing," she grunted. "You look ridiculous."

"Ella's mice are merchants, travelers, and artisans," Robin said, gasping for air. Lacey noticed his eyes, while on her, were focused, probably listening for sounds of someone in the hall. "Ella Tremaine may not be known to the nobility, but she is very much a leader in her community. She feeds the starving, shelters the homeless, and helps those without hope. Did you think she simply sat there in the fireplace for all those years? No, she worked the skin off her bones to make sure her Father's estate stayed strong in the war. All the other estates lost sons and fathers to the war, but the Tremaine estate stayed strong, ruled unseen from the kitchen while the Lady Tremaine squandered the fortune away on clothes and appearances."

"So, the Tremaine estate is powerful?" Lacey asked, sitting upright.

"Most powerful one in the realm at this time I would say," Robin nodded.

"So, that's why the Sheriff wants her," Lacey growled. "He's after more than just a title."

"He what!" Robin exclaimed, bolting to his feet. "Did her Stepmother actually agree to it? She would have to be mad!"

"Lady Tremaine seems to think it's just because Ella's of noble birth," Lacey said, reaching over to clasp Robin's wrist in hers. At the feel of the cold iron in her hand, Lacey glanced down at it, seeing the simple locking mechanism through the shadow between them. "She just wants Ella out of the way so her daughters can inherit the lands."

"No," Robin was saying, glancing over her head at the door. "The Tremaine Estate is practically penniless, but it's very well respected. If the heir is produced, the other Estates of the realm will rally to her. If her husband goes against the King, and she is seen supporting it-"

"Thomas," Lacey groaned. "He must have known. That's why he made the decree."

"Prince Thomas," Robin grinned, "is, my apologies, Belle, a well-intentioned idiot. He has a good heart, but nothing between his ears but what someone whispers into it. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say the prince has no idea who Ella truly is. He's a good man, but not a leader. To be truthful, it's been the very devil to love the woman actually responsible for running the kingdom you're vowed to ruin."

"Marian!" Lacey declared, smacking her forehead. If Thomas was as hopeless as Robin said, it made sense why Marian, poor low-born Marian, had been chosen for leadership in the castle. There could be no one better suited to guide the Prince than the person he trusted most, his best friend since childhood. "We need to get to Marian. She can sort this out. Thomas made a vow to marry his mysterious Lady Ella at the ball last night, we just need him to find her before anyone beats him to the altar."

"You'll have to do it,"Robin decided. "When a guard comes in, I can distract him-"

"Forget that," Lacey replied. "It has to be you. I'd blunder my way straight into the nearest guard or get lost in the woods within ten minutes." Pulling a pin from her hair, she plunged it into the lock of Robin's manacles, and twisted. A moment later, an audible click was heard as the locking mechanism sprang free and the manacles fell off Robin's wrists into Lacey's waiting grip.

The long-haired man blinked at her, rubbing at his free wrist as Lacey hurried to repeat her success on his other wrist before kneeling down to free the lock between his feet. A moment later, he stood before her as free as she was.

"How?" he asked, as she pushed the pin back in her hair.

"Summer camp," Lacey said with a grin. "The counselors locked up their alcohol. You could say I learned to liberate it."

"You are a strange and wonderful sort of woman, Belle," Robin Hood declared, shaking his head. "If my heart did not belong to another-"

"God, you better watch that," Lacey grinned at him saucily. "If I didn't like Marian half as well as I do, I wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of being alone with you in a locked room."

It was worth the probable concussion, Lacey decided, to see Robin Hood blush.

In the end, it was surprisingly easy to knock out a guard.

As Lacey buttoned her bodice back up, Robin dragged the unconscious fellow deep into the shadows before he began to undress him. He ignored Laceys' offer to help, despite her reassurances she had seen a naked man before. He was still a little dazed from Lacey's distraction tactic. "He smells like a rotting fish," Robin told her, laying the jailer's clothes out next to him. "God knows the last time he's bathed."

"All yours then," Lacey conceded gracefully. She leaned against the nearest wall, cocking her head as she watched Robin reach for his own vest. Realizing she was watching, Robin turned and raised a single eyebrow at her. "What?" He simply continued to stare back at her, a bemused smile playing at the corner of his thin lips. With one hand, he twisted a finger in a circle and Lacey groaned. "Fine," she said, turning to face the wall. "Spoilsport."

After a few moments, Robin stood dressed and ready. With the keys jangling in his hands, he looked back at the now locked up guard before back to Lacey. "He'll be out cold for a bit," he told her. "But if he wakes up, don't go near him."

"Not going to be a problem," Lacey replied, eyeing the figure slumped over in the corner. "You better get going before they come to get you for the trial."

Robin hesitated at the door. "You'll be all right?"

Lacey grinned at him, punching one shoulder fondly before stepping away from him. "I'll be fine. I can hold my own until the cavalry comes."

Saying their goodbyes, Robin disappeared out the door, locking it behind him. He left the latch open, wavering in the hallway. "Go," Lacey urged him. "Find Marian and then get me the hell out of here." Before he could respond, booted footsteps were heard, tromping down the stairs. Robin tipped the guard's hat at her with his forefinger, winked and then disappeared in the opposite direction.

Lacey swallowed, wrapping her fingers around the edge of the small bolt hole. She had to stand on her tiptoes to see out of it. She had gone nearly thirty years without ever being arrested in the real world, and here she barely managed to go a day before someone felt the need to lock her up. At least in the last dungeon, she hadn't the very real worry of a sadistic rapist holding the key.

As the guards approached, Lacey stepped back from the door. The steps were growing louder, which meant Robin would have little to no head start at this rate. Any second, they'd open the door, realize the figure in the corner was not the famous thief, and she was going to pay the price of their disappointment. She just ardently hoped the guards were more afraid of the Sheriff than she was.

When she heard the scuffle of boots coming to a stop outside the door, Lacey's heart began to beat faster and faster; her breathing strived to match, growing shallow. Reaching behind her, she wrapped a hand around a column, using the cold old stone to support her as the key turned in the lock. Outside, she heard the muffled voice of someone whispering, before they fell abruptly silent.

The door swung open, revealing at least ten figures standing in formation around the doorway. The chief guard, a star on his breast, stood back from the door, bowing to a figure just to the left of the doorway. "Your Excellency," he mumbled abashedly.

A moment later, a slight figure replaced the larger guard. Slightly taller than Lacey, he barely came up to the guard's chin, but he filled the doorway. His face was in shadow, the torch light behind him overpowering the weak sun spots that pock-marked the dungeon. Lacey cleared her throat, and in her best flippant tone addressed the newcomer. "Afraid my cellmate is sleeping," she told the group. "You'll have to come back when he wakes up."

"Silence," the head guard warned her, leveling a finger at her. The figure beside him, lifted a hand and instead it was the guard who fell silent.

"No need for that," the smaller man commented in a low, smooth baritone. "Tell me, Hedberg, how is it that the lady has been imprisoned with a male prisoner?"

"He's due for execution this afternoon," someone piped up from the back with a high-pitched giggle. "Thought he deserved a little something to look at before the noose!"

The front figure turned, and Lacey caught a flash of silver as the torchlight touched his head. The guard who had spoken hunched his shoulders, growing nervous as the figure regarded him.

"I see," the man in charge said quietly. "Was this your idea then?"

"Sheriff wanted her well looked after, Your Excellency," the unfortunate guard croaked. "Which means-"

"I do not need you to explain the man's depravities," the slight man interrupted.

"Begging your pardon, Your Excellency," Hedburg offered tentatively. "We put her with Robin Hood, because he's known to be a thief with honor. He's locked up in chains, nice and tight. But he wouldn't presume to touch a lady."

"No," Lacey cut in. "Believe me I tried."

This caught the attention of His Excellency Whoever He Was. He turned back to her, remaining just in the shadows so she still could not make out much more than the fine cut of his clothes. He wore an immaculately cut suit, less militaristic than the one Thomas has worn; his had long coattails over straight trousers.

"Amusing," he replied. His tone was dry enough to indicate it was anything but. "Perhaps you would like to stay here then? Try your luck again when he wakes?"

"No need for that," Lacey said, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the column. "He's a dead man walking according to that fellow." A guard elbowed the one who had spoken earlier. He winced, glaring at his companion before letting his gaze fall back to the floor. "Oh," Lacey said with a grin. "Was I not supposed to know that?"

"Regardless," the man in charge said. "My visit has nothing to do with the so-called prince of thieves."

"Oh?" Lacey asked, tilting her chin at him, waiting for him to say more. Men talked. They loved to hear their own voices, their own opinions repeated back to them. Lacey knew this. Hell, that's how she had gotten to where she was in her career. Just sit back and let them talk, worked every time.

But to her surprise, the man did not reply. He simply crossed his arms, stared back at her and waited. She narrowed her eyes, glaring back as silence began to fill the room. Every second she spent distracting them was more time for Robin to escape. After a minute, the guards began to fidget, some darting looks between the two of them in open-mouthed astonishment.

"Your Excellency," Hedburg hedged, but the man simply shook his head, effectively silencing him.

Lacey, intent on her goal, still began to grow annoyed. This worked. This always worked. Taking a step forward, craning her neck to get a better look at the man in shadow, she prodded him. "Did you come here for anything in particular?" she asked him. "Or just to stare?"

He did not laugh but he nodded. "If you would be so kind as to come with me?"

Lacey did not move. "And why would I do that?" she demanded. A few guards shot her murderous looks, while others looked stunned. She ignored them.

Hedburg on the other hand growled, "How dare you speak to a Royal Ambassador like that, you little maggot!" He advanced into the dungeon with his hand raised high. Lacey took a step to meet him, tilting her face up to meet the blow.

She did not see stars. Just a white hot flash of light, and the sound of someone gasping echoing in her ears as pain blossomed not only on her cheek but across the base of her skull. Clutching her cheek, Lacey lifted her head to stare back up at the mammoth man. "I am getting sick of being concussed," she seethed up at him, feeling tears prickling her eyes. She raised her own hand up, hating the way it trembled ever so slightly. "If you raise your hand to me again, you had better kill me or I swear…."

The man looming over her seemed to think this a fine idea. His hand went to his side where a club hung and Lacey watched him defiantly. She had a concussion before, barely two months ago. If he moved to strike her, all it would take was a well-placed knee to bring him down before he could.

"Hedburg!"

"Your Excellency?" the giant growled, not moving a muscle.

"Are you familiar with the punishments for striking a superior?" the figure asked coolly. Lacey still could not see him from behind Hedburg, but the larger man's eyes twitched away from hers.

"I am, Your Excellency," he grunted, eying Lacey's hand where it hung between them in threat. "Losing a hand, isn't it?"

"Indeed. And you have just struck a princess of royal blood."

Lacey felt her breath abandon her. Stepping out from behind a now frozen Hedburg, she approached the figure in the doorway. If he believed her to be a princess, he was no friend of the Sheriff's.

"Who are you?" she asked him. "Did Marian send you?"

"Princess Belle, I do hate to repeat myself. Seeing as the dungeons lack the proper accommodations for a lady of your station, I will ask again only once. Are you ready to leave?"

"As soon as you tell me who you are," Lacey replied. In the corner, a slight movement alerted her to the fact that the fake Robin was beginning to wake up. Torn between buying Robin more time and getting the hell out of dodge, Lacey still couldn't help feeling just a trifle defiant. She hated when men didn't do what they were supposed to after all.

"Your Excellency," someone from the side of the door whispered. "We should be heading back to the castle soon."

Ignoring this, the man did not waver nor did Lacey. Finally, with a bow, he sank before Lacey, a courtly gesture that he held as she stared down at him. After a moment, he straightened. She was close enough now to see his dark brown eyes, lined with crow's feet and set in a sharp angular face.

"I have many titles. My current one being ambassador," the man replied, staring at her with a sharp twist of his thin lips. "However, for all intents and purposes, Your Royal Highness may call me whatever she likes."

"I would like a name," Lacey demanded curtly, growing tired of his power play. "Or should I just call you my hero?"

"That'll do fine, I think," he replied drolly. Lacey opened her mouth to respond when she noticed the man beside the Ambassador growing nervous, toying with his lace cuffs as he shifted his weight from one side to the other.

"I think your lapdog has to pee," Lacey said, nodding in his direction. The ambassador turned, raising an eyebrow at his companion who flushed at the attention.

"My apologies," he muttered. "But we were expected back at the castle over an hour ago, Ambassador Gold."

The Ambassador sighed even as Lacey smiled like a cat who had gotten the canary. "Gold, hmm?" she purred. "See, that wasn't so hard."

Pushing past him, she moved into freedom until her back was to the entire party. Exhaling blissfully, she let her eyes fall shut for a brief moment of relief before she turned back to find them all watching her.

"Well, shall we?"

Gold nodded, before joining her. He offered his arm which she took as they began their way up the stairs. Lacey kept her eyes open, looking into every nook and cranny, just in case she found herself back here sooner rather than later. As if aware of her reasons, Gold tightened his grip on her arm ever so slightly. "No need for that," he mumbled just loud enough for her to hear, but so their entourage could not. "You won't be returning."

"So sure?" Lacey replied.

He only grinned. "Of many, many things."

* * *

Okay, I want to thank you all for being so PATIENT. I know a lot of readers have been staring at the screen going- Okay but where is the IMP? And I'm sorry that this arc took longer than I had meant for it to but I hope now you see I've been building up for this huge reveal.

We're going to wrap up here in the First Kingdom in the next couple of chapters but thank you for sticking with this story, and these characters, and all the inbetween. I'm very grateful and I've learned a lot from your feedback. I had written up to Chapter 31 but I have some great ideas now to move forward and I hope you stay with me as I explore this new dynamic between these two.

I've had this idea since I started the Gate and I'm thrilled beyond words to finally get here. I hope you love it. I hope you were surprised and I hope you're excited to see what happens next.


	29. Chapter 29

By the time they had reached the carriage, Lacey was thoroughly enjoying herself.

As the guards watched her leave, some appeared confused, others impressed while certain ones grumbled under their breaths. She winked at those grumbling even as Gold ushered her out of the prison door. She was unable to help the grin on her face, feeling giddy with relief as they stepped outside.

"Your Excellency," the unfortunate captain of the guards called out after them. Gold paused just short of the drive where the carriage waited for them. "Perhaps you could be convinced to wait for the Sheriff?" Hedburg eyed Lacey in distaste. "As I protested earlier, this is very unorthodox."

"As I stated previously," Gold replied, "I have other matters to attend to than soothing the ruffled feathers of a local Sheriff. Now, if you'll excuse us…"

He started forward down the stairs of the prison, but Lacey hung back. His grip on her arm jerked her forward slightly but she held her ground as she smiled up at Hedburg's twisted features. "Do thank the Sheriff for his hospitality," Lacey said.

Before Hedburg could reply, Gold tugged her away, dragging her down the stairs with a bruising grip. "Hey!" Lacey protested, struggling to keep up with the slight man. "Lay off!"

"If you could keep your attitude in line," Gold grumbled, pulling her forward. "Perhaps I would be inclined to accommodate you."

They arrived at the carriage, Gold's toady from earlier hurrying forward to fling the door open for them. Lacey wrenched her arm free, glaring at Gold who was glancing at the afternoon sun as if gauging the time. The waning light lit his face, and for the first time Lacey was able to get a proper look at him.

He was older than she had previously thought. Lines surrounded his eyes and mouth, but it did not age him more than define him. His eyes were dark brown, speckled with gold in the sunlight and his lashes were longer than any man had a right to. But it was his lips, pursed in a thin but steady line that caught Lacey's attention, the way they curled even in repose that hinted at the personality of her otherwise mysterious rescuer.

He turned, catching her staring and those same lips quirked upwards in an amused smirk. Lacey returned the sardonic look, offering him her hand. After a hesitation, he nodded. Moving forward, he took her hand in his, squeezing it slightly as he helped her up into the carriage.

As Lacey settled into the cushioned seats, Gold joined her, moving to the opposite side of the carriage as his man closed the door behind them and disappeared to the front of the carriage. Lacey leaned out the window as the horses jerked forward, watching the prison roll away behind her as they headed towards freedom.

"When they discover the thief gone, they'll be baying for your blood."

Lacey twisted, finding Gold regarding her in some interest. She shrugged, settling back into the seat as the carriage rocked unevenly across the makeshift roads. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, glancing down at her now filthy fingernails. She buffed them on her dress as he watched her. "Thank you," she added, glancing up at him. "For getting me out of there."

For a second, he looked taken aback. He opened his mouth as if to say something but then tossed his head, turning to look out the window. "It's a short drive to the castle," he shared with her. "I do hope you've learned something from this."

"Sure have," Lacey shot back. "Make friends with people in high places."

He didn't respond, but she saw the ghost of a smile on his face. She turned to look back out her own window, gazing at the mountains glowing in the sunlight. The forest shifted in the wind, and Lacey craned her neck to see how far the forest stretched on before them.

"Like I said, it won't be long," Gold said, noticing her interest. "The jail was built close by in the town market square to alleviate the dungeons."

"Charming," Lacey drawled. "I suppose that makes some kind of twisted sense."

"I suppose," Gold answered vaguely.

"So, tell me," Lacey pressed, scooting forward on the edge of her seat. She was well aware she was filthy, her dress still half unbuttoned from her earlier distraction attempt and her hair matted with who knew what. "If Marian didn't send you, who did?"

"That would be telling," he replied, shooting her a devilish grin. Lacey did not smile back, but she felt invigorated for the first time in felt like forever. Here was a man that was her equal, she could tell by the way in the way he held back, twisting words into empty promises and crafting assumptions as if they were truths.

"I must say I'm disappointed," she admitted. He turned from the window, leaning forward towards her.

"Oh?" he breathed, eyes searching her face.

"Yes," she replied, eyes tracing his features. He was not handsome, more magnetic as if there was a secret current pulling her towards him. Lacey was not entirely sure if it was the head injury, the exhaustion or the uncertainty but she felt herself giving into it, wanting to see where it took her. "I'm disappointed that I did not meet you last night or the one before."

There was danger here, she knew, but it was not the danger like that she had known at the hands of the Sheriff or the selkie or even the kelpie's draw. No, this was something different entirely although it felt alarmingly familiar. He held her gaze, but his face was neutral.

The driver called out a greeting, and from the corner of her eye, the gates of the castle rolled by their windows.

"I'm not one for parties," Gold said as the carriage rattled up to the castle stairs. "Perhaps I may have decided otherwise if I had know my reception would be this warm."

"You don't know the half of it," Lacey told him, her voice pitched low. He quirked an eyebrow at her but before he could respond, they rolled to a halt. He sat back, eyes going to the window as his poor man can hurrying to open the door for them.

"Your Royal Highness," the man panted, holding his gloved hand out for her. Gold sat silent in the corner now, ignoring her. She recognized the game, and let the man help her down. She did not wait for Gold, moving up the stairs to enter the castle. She was unsure of her welcome here, but figured if Gold had brought her here, she would at least be admitted.

A footman swung the door open, eyes averted as Lacey entered, still wearing Cinderella's hand me downs and looking more a scullery maid than a princess. Gold followed behind her, but the sound of someone hurrying towards them made Lacey turn to the east hall.

Marian was briskly making her way towards her, her face scrunched up in irritation. Lacey took a step backwards, hearing Gold chuckle as she brushed against him. "Steady," he whispered to her, his fingers brushing the exposed skin at her wrist.

She shot him a look, but did not move her hand. Marian, eyes fixed on Lacey, opened her mouth to deliver what promised to be a heated diatribe suddenly skidded to a halt before them as she realized who exactly Lacey was with.

"Your Excellency," Marian greeted formally, sinking into a curtsy. Her eyes flickered up at them both in silent question. Lacey shifted slightly away from Gold. "I did not realize you were familiar with Princess Belle?"

"I believe my business is my own," Gold replied easily as Marian straightened. The woman flushed but kept a polite look on her face. Lacey had to hide a smile, knowing Marian was seething on the inside.

Gold also clearly made out Marian's true feelings. He bowed low to Lacey. "I will leave you in the capable hands of the Castellan," he murmured. "Do try and stay out of future trouble, Princess."

"I'll try," Lacey said, grinning down at him. "I'm afraid I can't promise anything."

With a nod to Marian, he left them, disappearing into the west wing as his man followed behind him. The nervous thing shot a look back at Marian who waved him on, eyes narrowed at the ambassador's retreating back. The ambassador was impossible, and entirely full of himself, but he also had a quick wit, intelligent eyes, and, as she know could see, had a rather impressive backside. Lacey, content to watch him walk away, almost fell sideways when Marian rounded on her.

"And you!" Marian exclaimed, swatting her. "What were you thinking?"

"Hey!" Lacey protested, looking around for potential witnesses. "I just learned what happens when people hit royalty, so if you want to keep that hand-"

"Yeah?" Marian asked her, nostrils flaring. "Do you know what they do to people who _pretend_ to be royalty?"

Lacey swallowed but kept her face as neutral as possible. "I don't know what you're insinuating."

"I checked, Belle," Marian told her, scowling.

Before Lacey could reply, a gaggle of nobles entered, chatting and looking at interest at the two plainly dressed ladies standing openly in the hall. They stopped in surprise, taking in Lacey's appearance with horrified giggles.

Marian nodded to them in greeting before linking her arm in Lacey's. She steered her towards the east hall. "There is no such Princess Belle in the Fourth Kingdom or any other kingdom."

"Ow," Lacey complained, wrenching her arm free as they turned the corner. "Okay, fine. I'm not a princess, happy?"

"No," Marian sighed. "Because you're going to have to keep pretending to be one if we're going to get through this."

"Wait, if you're so mad, why allow the ambassador to bail me out?"

Marian shook her head, her hair bouncing about her cheek. "Allow?" she laughed mirthlessly. "I nearly panicked when the guard at the front gate reported he had left the grounds. Then, I find out not only is he at the jail, but he's liberating a woman from the lowest dungeons. A woman seen dancing in these very halls, a princess of the royal blood!"

"I don't understand," Lacey said, following Marian as they headed towards a back stair case. "How did he know I was there?"

"As if I have any idea! He went on his own agenda," Marian concluded. "For all intents and purposes, it appears Ambassador Gold wants you here. Meaning you're going back to being a princess."

"You're scared of him," Lacey realized, pulling up her skirt to follow Marian up the stairs. "He didn't seem all that terrifying to me…"

"He's the Ninth Kingdom's ambassador, Lacey," Marian hissed over her shoulder. "When he showed up unannounced for the ball, I thought the King was going to have a nervous collapse on the spot."

They fell silent as a host of maids appeared on the top of the stairs. They curtsied prettily to the two of them, staring in open interest at Lacey. "Run along," Marian instructed. "Lady Georgina was asking for someone to help with her hair."

Two girls nodded, peeling away to head towards the lady in question. Lacey followed Marian the other way, coming to a door which Marian twisted open to reveal a large four poster bed. "In here," Marian instructed, nudging her inside. Lacey obeyed, entering into the blue and white china-patterned room.

Marian entered behind her, slamming the door shut. "Tell me everything," she demanded, crossing her arms under her ample chest.

"Marian," Lacey sighed, but Marian stomped her foot, and pointed a finger at her, cheeks flushed.

"Don't you dare," she snapped. "Robin is in prison right now because of you. Thomas has been locked in his room all day sulking, and I'm at my wits end trying to keep this place running while the thrice cursed ambassador of the Ninth Kingdom waltzes about our castle, looking into matters he should not be looking into!"

Lacey faltered at this onslaught, trying to figure out where she should begin. "Okay, first of all," she started, "Robin's escaped. He's on his way now to find you if that makes you feel any better. Thomas is going to have to get over himself because Ella has been engaged to the Sheriff of Nottingham and needs our help. As far as Gold, I've never met him before in my life, but he seems harmless enough to me."

Marian snorted. "Yes, Belle, because the Dark One's personal ambassador is the one person a king wants running around when the kingdom is dealing with the aftereffects of a war and the heir to the throne is acting like a child instead of a leader."

Lacey didn't hear anything after the first bit. Her entire body went completely numb, leaving her staring, mouth gaping, as Marian glared at her. The man whose backside she had just been admiring worked for the Imp. Meaning their shared acquaintance was sitting somewhere twiddling his thumbs laughing at this whole fiasco.

When Lacey failed to respond, Marian cocked her head at her. "What's wrong with you?" she asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Lacey smiled grimly, even as her fingers gripped the cotton fabric of her skirt and squeezed. As soon as the situation with Ella was resolved, she was going to find Ambassador Gold and give him a piece of her mind. She had liked him, hell she had thanked him!

Seething, she put on her best interview face, hoping like hell Marian would buy it so she would leave and she could destroy something. "It's nothing," she lied through her gritted teeth. "Just hungry."

"I'll get a maid to bring you something," Marian decided. She was still angry from the deceit, wanting as badly to leave as Lacey wanted her to go. "You'll stay here unless I come for you. I can't have you roaming the halls too."

"You can't trust a liar," Lacey translated for her. "That's fine, but I promise you I want nothing more than to help Ella and Robin right now." Marian looked at her doubtfully. "I promise," Lacey swore. "Well, besides a nap and something to eat."

Marian still didn't look convinced. "I've got to go before someone misses me but I'll be back up as soon as I can."

With that, Marian exited the room, leaving Lacey alone with a lot of questions and a growing desire to wring the neck of the Imp. At this rate, it was unlikely she was going to survive this world for another month, much less the next eight months.

Flinging herself down on the bed, Lacey stared up at the white canopy overhead as her adrenaline ebbed away, leaving her sore and tired, and her head aching. She hadn't thought about it much but if she had kept track of the days, it was March now. Back home, spring was starting instead of the fall creeping into the air here. She wondered what winter would be like in a magical kingdom, if it snowed.

She'd worry about it later, she decided, closing her eyes.

First, she would sleep.

"Marian, for god's sake, slow down!"

Ignoring her, the castellan continued to talk as she hurried around the room, closing the blinds as night started to fall over the land. "If all of that goes well, then Friar Tuck will marry them in the forest. Easy enough to tell the nobles there was an intimate wedding, everyone will be tripping over themselves to say they were there. No one will dare admit they weren't."

Having finished her detailed plan to not only liberate Ella from the Sheriff but also get Robin safely out of the realm, Marian turned her flushed face to Lacey. "Well, don't just sit there!" she exclaimed, waving her from her spot on the settee. "You need to collect Thomas before his father drags him in front of the peers!"

Lacey finished toeing on the heeled satin slipper that Marian had brought up to her. It was dyed purple, matching the rich color of the dress she wore. Lacey plucked at the odd little bows that lined either sides of the full skirt, laid over black brocade. "Are you sure there's nothing else I can wear?" Lacey asked Marian. "It's kind of itchy."

Marian shook her head before coming back over to rearrange the neckline, lingering at the tulle sleeves that hung just off her shoulders. "I'll have you know," she said fiercely. "This was my favorite dress of the Queen's. She only wore it once but I remember how beautiful she looked that night..."

Her voice trailed off, and Lacey sighed. "Fine, if you're going to be maudlin about it, I'll wear it."

"That look is back in style," Marian said defensively. "Stop complaining or I'll go get the pink nightmare I had to wear the past three nights."

"This is fine," Lacey said quickly, picturing the fringed ruffles clearly in her mind. Downstairs, the castle was preparing for the royal decree. The King, as Marian had told her, had been beside himself at his son's headstrong behavior. Apparently, no one had expected Thomas to be defiant enough to go against everyone's expectations. His current behavior was the talk of the entire realm.

"Now," Marian said, stepping back and clapping her hands together. "Any questions?"

"Get Thomas to the Sheriff's, free Ella and then escape into the woods where Thomas will pardon Robin and the Merry Men. After that, Tuck will marry them and we can all come back to the castle and have breakfast."

The usually pleasant-faced Marian scowled. "This isn't a joke," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "It's the very future of our realm."

"You mean, it's your one chance of living happily ever after," Lacey snapped back. Marian looked affronted but Lacey, tired of being talked down to ever since she had arrived, did not back down. "Don't give me that face," she said. "You finally have a chance to get Robin out of the woods and into your bed and you're taking it!" Marian's face flushed pink, eyes wide as she clamped her mouth shut. "Who cares about Ella or Thomas?"

"Stop," Marian said, blinking back angry tears.

Lacey ignored her. "You get this right and you can be married right alongside them!"

"No!" Marian exclaimed. "I have duties. I have responsibilities and I can't throw it all away. Not even for Robin!"

"Bullshit," Lacey exclaimed. "You're scared. God, look at you. It was fun playing scandal but now that shit's hit the fan, you're too afraid to admit it even to yourself!"

Marian took two steps over to her and lifted her hand to smack her. Lacey caught the round wrist neatly. Marian was struggling to hold back tears but Lacey had no more patience for pity.

"This isn't a game," Lacey whispered to her, gripping her wrist tightly. "You don't trust me. Fine. But don't you dare accuse me of playing at this. I am sick and tired of getting sucked into other people's dramas. I would happily walk out of here right now and never see any of you again."

"Then why don't you?" Marian demanded.

"Because," Lacey said, stepping back and dropping Marian's hand. "Ella doesn't deserve the life she's had and she certainly doesn't deserve the life she'll have as wife to that madman. I owe Ella if no one else."

"Fine," Marian seethed, massaging her wrist. "The second they're married, I want you gone."

Lacey collapsed back onto the settee, rubbing her temples as Marian marched to the door. "I'm sorry," she called out with a sigh, stilling Marian's self righteous exit. "Everything's going pear shaped everywhere I turn lately."

"Lies tend to do that," Marian said stiffly.

Lacey lifted her eyes to Marian's. "You want the truth?" Marian did not respond but her hand fell from the door's handle. Lacey nodded, looking back down at her hands. "Fine. I'm not a princess. I'm not even from here. I'm someone who found myself way over my head and I'm by nature too stubborn to admit it."

The room was silent, as Marian regarded her warily. "Who are you?" Marian asked. "Really?"

Lacey hesitated. The warning that names held power still echoed in her head. She didn't know if she believed it but she couldn't dismiss what she didn;t know anymore. She had learned too much to look down on magic and warnings. Still, there couldn't be any harm in giving someone her real name. To just hear one person say it after all this time…

"Belle," she said. The name was growing familiar even on her tongue and she repeated it again as if saying it again would make it true. "Belle Ives."

Marian moved closer to her, settling down primly on the nearby stool. "And where are you from, Belle?"

Lacey laughed. "You're not going to make this easy are you?" Marian shook her head and grinned just for a moment before her face turned stoic again. "Okay, I'm from the Ninth Kingdom."

Marian made an involuntary noise of skepticism but she did not move from the stool. "There's no one in the Ninth Kingdom," she said bluntly but the anger had faded from her voice. "It was destroyed in the Ogre Wars. Only the Dark One actually lives there now."

"You know that how?" Lacey bluffed. She wished she knew more about the lands of the Dark Castle. Bluffing her way through this was going to take finesse. If she alienated Marian any further, she risked losing her chance to help Ella. She doubted the Imp would be willing to assist her, and she would not let Ella owe him anything. Her own debt was large enough already; who could imagine what Ella's rescue would cost?

"Everyone knows that," Marian told her. "The Dark One was drawn to the Great War. The people wanted an end to all the pain and safety was bought with their downfall. It was a warning to all other kingdoms."

Lacey tugged at her ear, trying not to look entirely at a loss. "There's the occasional person that finds their way to his kingdom," she said nonchalantly. "Even the Dark One needs help from time to time."

"So, you're what?" Marian deadpanned. "His maid?"

"I am not his maid!" Lacey protested in shocked outrage. "I work for him. I don't clean up after him!"

Marian, unable to help herself, giggled. It broke the tension and Lacey found herself laughing along as the two of them broke into peals of laughter. The animosity faded away, and by the time they gained their breath, marian was wiping tears from her eyes.

"You are the oddest girl, Belle Ives. You just admitted you're one of the Dark One's toadies. Most people would hang you on the spot, but here you stand, bold as brass and openly admit it while insisting I don't accuse you of being his maid!"

"I'm not one of his toadies," Lacey huffed. "Someone I cared about made a deal with him- it- whatever, to keep me alive and safe for a year. I didn't get a say in the matter."

Marian shifted, her dress rustling around her as her eyes looked her up and down. "Why are you here then?"

Lacey stood, walking over to the day dress she had worn in Ella's home, and took out the handkerchief. Unfolding it, she held out the dreadlock for Marian to see. "I was sent to the Second Kingdom to get the hair of the Blind Witch. Things got ugly. I got out of there, only to wander into this soap opera."

"This what?"

"Never mind," Lacey sighed, slipping the handkerchief into the large pocket of her new gown. "The point is, I didn't know Ambassador Gold prior to this because I'm new to this whole Dark One thing."

"But you work for him?" Marian asked.

Lacey nodded. "Does that make me untrustworthy?"

Marian sighed, standing up. "It at least answers why the ambassador is here," she said. "Probably sent here to look after you."

"Why not just magic me back?" Lacey wondered.

"Obvious isn't?" Marian replied. "I've known you for less than a few days. You're a stubborn thing. I doubt you would have let him."

Blinking, Lacey did not respond as Marian returned to the door. "I'll see you in the forest. Oh, and I almost forgot…"

She dug out something in her pocket, placing it down on a nearby table before she turned and left.

"See you," Lacey called out as the door swung shut behind Marian. But her eyes rested on the golden tiara that Marian had left behind. Even slightly dinged from the other night, Emma's jewels still glowed bright.

"Princess Belle?"

"Your Royal Highness," Lacey said brightly, sinking into a half curtesy. Thomas stood in the doorway, disheveled as he blinked down at her. Thomas's pale cheeks were drained of color, eyes sunken in his head as he shook his head at her. Still, the man had a lean physique, which Lacey took in with a wicked grin. "You know," Lacey suggested. "You might want to do something about putting a shirt on…"

Too confused to care about his state of deshabille, he peered out past her into his bedroom's adjoining sitting area. "How did you even get in here?" he asked in amazement. "These are my Royal Quarters."

"Marian let me in," Lacey answered. "Now, are you going to join me or am I going to have to come in there and help dress you?"

"Are you alone?" Thomas asked, stepping past her to survey the room. She watched as his shoulders slumped, leaning against the doorframe as he stood forlornly in the empty room. Not that it was a bad view. For a tall, lanky man, Thomas had defined muscles and numerous scars. A few were faint pink lines, while others were puckered and angry welts. The War had been over for months now, and yet the country and its prince were still healing.

"That would be why I am here," Lacey told him, coming to join him in the center of the room. "Not that I'm complaining, but wouldn't you be more comfortable with a shirt?"

Nodding absently, he retired back to his room, the door falling shut behind him. Lacey made herself comfortable on the nearest couch, her eyes falling on the curious but familiar item that sat on the table before her. She reached out a finger to gently trace Ella's glass slippers. Marian must have given them to Thomas, but she wondered if they helped his despondence or only increased it. How often had he stared at the slippers the past day, pondering where their owner had disappeared?

After a while, Thomas rejoined her in the parlor having thrown on a linen shirt over his trousers, but it was wrinkled and had a tea stain on the sleeve. He sat down across from her, looking lost. "How are you enjoying your stay, Belle?" he asked, but his tone was flat and his eyes were blank.

"Oh, snap out of it," Lacey sighed. "Aren't you even going to ask about Ella?"

Thomas looked rattled but he quickly composed himself. "She's not come," he said hoarsely. "Which means she doesn't want to."

Lacey let her face fall into her palm with a satisfying smack of flesh. "You idiot," she grumbled. "You didn't even bother going to look for her?"

"Look for her?" Thomas repeated in amazement. "Why would I go look for her? She didn't return to the ball or come to the palace today. As a gentleman, I've accepted her refusal and have retreated from the field to respect her wishes. "

Lacey's mouth was gaping. The self righteous idiot thought Ella didn't love him. He was falling on his own sword to respect what he thought was Ella's wishes. Lacey wasn't sure whether to throttle him or kiss him. "Thomas, that's all very noble but she hasn't shown up," Lacey ground out, "because her stepmother had her locked up in their attic."

"She what?" Thomas asked, looking perplexed.

Lacey groaned. "Goodness, what does Ella see in you?" she mumbled under her breath.

Thomas, leaned forward in apology. "Sorry, what was that? Didn't quite hear it." He gestured to his ears with a grimace. "Bad hearing from cannonfire."

Battle hero, kind heart and a handsome face, not to mention a royal. Slow as he might be, he had only been trying to respect Ella. As crown prince, he could have forced her to marry him; instead he had accepted her wishes and attempted to move on.

Taking a deep breath, Lacey tried again. "Look, Ella's stepmother has arranged her betrothal to the Sheriff of Nottingham."

"Oh," Thomas said. Even as his face fell, his tone remained unerringly polite. "I see. Thank you for letting me know."

Lacey gaped at him. "But she's in love with you, you absolute idiot!"

"She is?" Thomas asked incredulously. "Then why didn't she say so?"

"Seriously?" Lacey exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "What aren't you getting about me coming to see you? She loves you but she's-"

Lacey didn't get a chance to finish. Before she could tell him the plan, the crown prince of the First Kingdom's Southern Realm had grabbed her arms and hauled her off the couch.

"She loves me!" Thomas exclaimed joyously. He began to waltz with Lacey, laughing merrily as he swirled her around the room. Significantly shorter than him, her feet barely grazed the floor. "She loves me!"

"Thomas!" Lacey struggled to yell over his relieved laughter. The spinning was making her dizzy and she clung to his shoulders as the room dissolved around her. A serious head wound and a spinning room did not go well with each other. "Stop or I'll be sick! Put me down!"

"Oh, Belle, thank you! Thank you for telling me!" Thomas laughed, oblivious to her green-tinged face. "Ask me for the moon, ask me for the stars, ask me anything you desire!"

"We need to go rescue Ella!"

"Rescue her?" he asked, abruptly coming to a stop. Lacey's feet whacked into his legs but he didn't seem to feel it. "I don't need to rescue her. I'll send one of my men for her. The Sheriff is a reasonable fellow. Once he realizes she doesn't want to marry him, he'll step aside."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Lacey said, pushing against him until he put her down. "In fact, the only reason he wants Ella is because she's the Baron Tremaine's daughter, and he's going to use the family name to make a bid for power."

"Baron Tremaine?" Thomas interrupted quizzically. "That's impossible. His daughter died years ago during the war."

"No," Lacey said. "She's been forced to play maid to her stepmother and stepsisters. She's been living in the kitchens all this time."

Thomas looked like he had been gut punched. "Oh, Ella," he whispered, grasping the back of the couch for support.

"The Sheriff," Lacey continued, trying to get through to him, "has some kind of scheme to use the Tremaine name to wrestle the kingdom away from you."

"Why?" Thomas asked, looking wounded. "I've never done anything to him."

Lacey resisted the urge to yell. "Because, he wants the kingdom. And you," she waved at him, "have the kingdom." She moved one hand from one side to the other. "See what I'm saying here?"

Realization slowly dawned on the prince's face. "Guards!" he bellowed, moving hastily towards the door.

"Wait!" Lacey exclaimed, snapping her fingers to catch his attention. "Not that I care about my reputation, but I'm not supposed to be in here unchaperoned."

"Oh, yes," Thomas mumbled, reddening slightly. "Well, perhaps it's better to handle this on our own. We'll get horses, Nottingham's residence isn't far, we'll be back before anyone misses us."

Without pausing to change his shirt, Thomas, heir of the Southern Realm of the First Kingdom went charging out to rescue his love. Lacey went to follow him, before her eyes fell back to the glass slippers on the table. Unable to say why, she grabbed them before hurrying after Thomas.

Elsewhere in the castle, Marian found herself standing outside the kitchen with the fretful manservant that had been assigned to keep tabs on their esteemed guest from the Ninth Kingdom.

"He just disappeared, milady!" the man before her cried. "I watched him go into his room when we returned and I stood just outside, like you showed me, but when they brought dinner up, he was gone!"

"Hush," Marian warned him, glancing around them. "I don't need the King to find out again. Are you sure you were in the spot I showed you? The very one?"

The poor man nodded fitfully. "He's got some magic," he whispered. "Just like his master!"

"Don't say such things," Marian scolded him. "You want the entire castle proper to panic? Now, go get something to eat and then rest. I'll send someone to watch for his return."

"Thank you, milady," he sighed, before heading towards the kitchens.

Marian sighed, glancing out the nearest window as the moons began to rise. It was going to be a long night. The guards had reported the prince had been in the stables, and the gossip was he had not been alone when he rode off through the gates. No one had recognized the mysterious lady beside him, but underneath her brown riding cloak, someone had seen the glitter of a tiara nestled in her curls. Already the castle's bored nobles and curious servants had spread the news of the enigmatic princess like wildfire, and it wasn't long before the news would escape the castle.

Now, Marian had the added worry of the Dark One's chosen envoy loose on the castle grounds with the prince gone off into the night. Despite Belle's assurances she could trust her, Marian had doubts of sending her with Thomas. If Belle proved to be as false as her master, Thomas's very life could be on the line. Still, for her plan to succeed, she had to stay here and wait for Robin.

Crossing to the stairs, Marian began to climb upwards, her eyes on the skies outside. Her mind bent on the missing ambassador, yet she couldn't help but think of the odd fake princess. Something in the other woman had drawn Marian to her that first night, something fresh and exotic in the way Belle carried herself, in the way she looked at things around her. It was vastly different from the ambassador's way of looking past things, as if they barely existed.

Arriving at his rooms, Marian entered and began to slowly tidy the already immaculate room. It did not even look as if the man had slept there the night before, nor bathed or eaten in the space. After a moment, Marian settled down by the window, overlooking the forest and waited. If he returned, she would pretend she had been sent up with dinner, which sat cooling by the fireplace. If he did not, she had a perfect view of the forest and would be able to see Robin before he had cleared the glen.

Still, her palms were damp and the back of her neck prickled in the empty room. Looking around, she shivered as she thought of the ambassador. She could only hope if he had any intentions for this evening, they would not conflict with theirs.

* * *

Notes:

_Whew! Long I know, sorry to go on and on but I had to add the opening scene in and I couldn't make myself move the last bits over to the next chapter so, here we are!_

_Hope you're all enjoying this final few chapters of Ella and Marian's story! The next chapter is the last from my NaNoWriMo challenge this year so new chapters may be a bit longer coming in the future but thank you all for reading- I'm very excited for the next arc to unfold! _


	30. Chapter 30

The twin moons' light combined with the stars painted the landscape silver. The castle faded away as Thomas led them further and further south, despite his earlier assurances to her in the stable that the trip was not far. The woods stayed constant to the east, ebbing away here and there to reveal plains and fields. The prince's pace was relentless, and Lacey began to regret insisting on coming along. Although, she was grateful she had ignored Thomas's attempts to convince her to ride sidesaddle. She could barely manage riding a horse as it was, she couldn't imagine trying to do it in a gown.

She had borrowed some of Marian's riding gear from the stable hands. Donning the much too large breeches and a flowy linen shirt, she had to tie and pin the excess fabric before draping Marian's riding cloak over her shoulders. Mairan wouldn't miss these for the evening. If she did mind, she could ride across the countryside in a ball gown and see how she liked it.

"Good horse," Lacey muttered to her steed as it veered suddenly left to avoid a hole in the road. She kept her knees relaxed despite wanting to squeeze harder. "Nice horsie."

She hadn't had her nightmares in a while, but she remembered the fear all too well. Her current transport, as far as she could tell, was an actual horse but in a land of kelpies, selkies, witches and Imps, she didn't trust anything.

They had passed the fork which would have taken them to the Tremaine estate almost thirty minutes ago, but still, Thomas showed no sign of stopping. They passed a large lake, their reflections racing alongside them in the still waters. The sounds of crickets could be heard over the hoofbeats as well as an owl hooting somewhere in the distance.

Lacey's initial hesitance to climb on the creature's back aside, she found it peaceful to gallop behind Thomas, content to let the horse follow its fellow stablemate into the darkness. From time to time, Thomas would glance back at her and offer her a reassuring smile before turning and urging his mount faster. The moonlight reflected iridescent gleams off Thomas's black hair, sparks of silver fire rippled across his black mount.

No one was outside this evening. They had yet to pass a town, like the port village in Eric's kingdom, but perhaps the First Kingdom did not have such towns. It seemed more the great rolling plains kept these people far apart, only coming together for balls and wars.

"Just ahead!" Thomas called back, pulling her out of her reverie. He pointed at a small hillscape to the right, and Lacey nodded back at him. Her fingers were cold and clammy, and her thighs were starting to protest. She already dreaded the ride back. Thomas veered off the main path onto a much smaller one, and Lacey nudged her own horse to follow. With a snort, the creature obeyed, tossing its head at her as if to assure that it knew what it was doing.

They passed through a gate, a large N emblazoned on the iron. It was not as elaborate as the gate in which she had passed through worlds, but it reminded her of home. By the time she reached the main courtyard, Thomas had already dismounted. It wasn't until she went to follow suit, that she saw the shadow in the window.

"Thomas!" Lacey exclaimed, scrambling to get down. Her horse neighed in protest annoyed at her pinching and scraping. "Little help here!"

Hands wrapped around her waist, hauling her down. Thomas's usually pleasant face was dark, and his eyes were already flickering back to the main door. "Stay here," he directed. He handed her the reins to her horse, and she glanced over to find his mount perfectly still where he had left it. It seemed the prince inspired loyalty in his mounts, so why not his own people?

Before Thomas could make it to the door, it was thrown open. Bright light flooded out as someone hoisted a great candelabra out at them. When her eyes adjusted to the new light, she saw it was a small wizened butled. "Your Royal Highness," the old man croaked. "To what do we owe this honor?"

"I've come to collect Ella Tremaine," Thomas said, continuing up the stairs. The little man stood firmly in the doorway, his candles shaking as he held his ground. "Stand aside."

"Oh, the miss is indisposed," the man said as Thomas joined him on the front porch. Lacey stood down in the darkness, holding onto the reins of her horse as she watched. With her breeches and her hood over her hair, the Sheriff would not be able to identify her.

"Still, I would speak to her," Thomas replied. He took the candelabra from the old man, an act of kindness for which the old man sighed gratefully as he let his wrist fall back to his side. "Perhaps your master is available?"

"Oh yes," the old man said with a rueful shake of his head. "Why, he's out back-"

"Your Royal Highness!" the butler cried in shock, as the Prince pushed past him, nearly knocking him to the ground. At this commotion, Lacey's horse snorted and reared slightly and Lacey dropped the reins in alarm. Trampling the ground, it tossed its head and whinnied in displeasure. Figuring it was either stay here and be trampled or help Thomas find Ella, Lacey hurried up the steps after him.

The little old man looked on in confusion as she brushed past him. "Oh, miss," he croaked, following after her as quickly as he could. "May I take your cloak?"

"Where did he go?" Lacey demanded as wrinkled hands tried to fumble for her cloak. The butler paused, blinking up at her. His eyes were bright blue, a young man's eyes in an old man's face.

"Sir," she repeated, catching his hands with her gloved ones. "Ella. Where is she?"

"Upstairs in the bridal chambers," the man said in confusion. "She's getting married in the hour!"

Lacey dropped his hands as she hurried up the nearby stairs. The foyer was grand but aged. Almost every item had a crest of arms or an N painted, etched, or plastered on it. Ignoring all of it, she made her way up. "God, I missed pants," she murmured, taking the next few steps two at a time. Once she reached the second floor, she glanced back to find the butler struggling up behind her. "Which way?"

He paused, pointing a trembling finger to the left. "Left at the split and third door down," he told her, returning to the climb. "The Master said no one is to disturb her."

Taking quick strides over the carpeted runners, Lacey found the door in question. It was the only one with candlelight spilling under the doorway, and the sound of someone crying just beyond it.

Lacey tried the handle, to find it locked. "Ella!" she said, knocking quickly. "Ella, it's Belle! Open up!"

The crying stopped, and she heard footsteps. "Belle?" Ella cried out as she reached the door. "It can't be! You're in jail!"

"I got out," Lacey replied, rattling the door handle again. "Let me in!"

"I can't!" Ella cried. "He locked me in here!"

"Are you okay?" Lacey asked, pressing her hand against the door. She heard a sniffle from the other side and Lacey rattled the door handle again, making the whole door shake in its frame. "Where's the Sheriff?"

"He sent for the minister," Ella told her through the wood. "He's out back with his guards. You have to go," Ella urged her. "If he finds you here-"

"Thomas is here," Lacey cut in. "He's come for you, so stop being a martyr and find something to break the door down!"

"Miss!" came the scandalized voice behind her. Lacey turned to find the little old man tottering up the hall behind her, a hand holding out a long silver key in his trembling hands.

"Oh, you beautiful man, you!" Lacey laughed, hurrying over to pluck the key from his hand. She pressed a exuberant kiss to his bald head before she hurried back to the door. "Got the key, Ella," Lacey told her, cramming it through the lock and twisting it.

A moment later, the door swung open and two long arms wrapped themselves around her as Ella buried her face in Lacey's hair. The sounds of muffled crying intensified as the arms squeezed her tighter and Lacey swayed, trying to hold up the much taller woman.

"Misses?" Ella turned her teary face towards the butler, bending down and enveloping him in a hug. His shocked face disappeared under her embrace and when Ella straightened, he was blushing furiously. "Now, Misses, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to go back inside your chambers. His Excellency will be back any moment and it's very bad luck to see the bride before the wedding."

Ella opened her mouth but Lacey beat her to it. "He's been holding her hostage," she explained, gesturing at Ella's swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "She doesn't want to marry him."

The older man blinked at Lacey, uncomprehending. "But she's his betrothed," he stressed. "She's to be the Mistress Nottingham."

"No," Lacey said, gripping Ella's wrist as she strode past the confused old man. "She's going to be Queen."

"Most unusual," Lacey heard the butler mutter behind them.

"He's quite old," Ella apologized. "Dear thing has been very kind, he just didn't understand I don't want to marry Nottingham."

"Men," Lacey grumbled, hurrying down the stairs. Ella soon was in front of her, arriving at the bottom of the stairs first. Lacey joined her, opening the front door to find her horse had wandered down the drive and was eating the lawn. Thomas's horse snorted at her, bobbing his head as if to mark his own good behavior. "Yes, yes," Lacey told him. "Good horse. Where's your prince gone?"

When the horse failed to reply, Lacey closed the front door and headed towards the back of the house. Taking a nearby candle sconce from a wall mounting, she beckoned Ella to follow her.

"It's just the butler and the Sheriff," Ella whispered to her as they went.

Entering one of the darker rooms, Lacey cried out and stepped back into Ella as the Sheriff's horrible grinning face loomed suddenly out of the darkness at her.

"It's fine!" Ella said, squeezing her hand. "It's just a painting!"

Breathing through her nose and out through her mouth, Lacey calmed herself as she slowly approached the life size portrait hanging on the wall. The painter had been overly kind to the Sheriff. His massive build was captured as was the coldness of his smile, but his features had been made more amenable and his hair and beard were much more impressive. "Really likes himself, doesn't he?" Lacey whispered. Ella nodded as her eyes skirted over it. "Come on, we better find Thomas."

They moved through the house quietly, Lacey leading the way with her candle while Ella followed at her shoulder, whispering occasionally to suggest one way or the other. After a while, they arrived back in the foyer, finding it still empty. "This doesn't make sense," Lacey said, frowning. "The place isn't that big. Where are they?"

"Miss!"

Lacey turned to see the butler slowly, painstakingly making his way towards them. Ella hurried up them to catch his arm and Lacey put her candle down, following suit and taking his other one. He beamed at the two of them, obviously smitten.

"Have you seen His Royal Highness?" Lacey asked him.

"Why of course, he just left," the Butler explained.

"Left?" Ella asked.

Lacey went to the front door, pulling it open to find Thomas's horse had joined the other one in the grass. She stared at them for a moment, before turning back to find that Ella had joined her. "Look," she said, pointing at the grazing pair. "Thomas wouldn't have left us, or his horse.'

'Where did he go?" Lacey asked the butler, who jumped slightly at the urgency of her tone.

"Why, with the master, of course," he told them as if they were both mad. "He told me to see to the Mistress while he took care of business."

"He has Thomas," Lacey groaned, leaning back against a wall and pounding her forehead with her fist. "Damn it, we just delivered the crown prince unarmed and unguarded to the man who wants his throne."

"Rozenite," Ella said softly, leaning over the old man. "Where did the Sheriff go with His Royal Highness?"

"Why, the palace of course!" Rozenite said incredulously. "He's going to be crowned!"

"Shit, shit shit!" Lacey cursed, turning to slam her clenched fist into the wall. She stayed there a moment, letting her forehead rest against the cool surface as her eyes clenched shut. This was wrong. They were supposed to rescue Ella, thwart the Sheriff and escape into the woods to marry the couple while convincing Thomas to pardon Robin. Instead, they had just delivered the throne to Nottingham on a silver platter.

"Ella," Lacey muttered to the wall. "What's the Sheriff's plan?"

"I don't know," Ella began but Lacey shook her head.

"No, come on, think. Tell me what the Sheriff's going to do next."

For a moment, there was only her own pulse low and steady in her ears, and the faint flicker of the flame in the air beside her. Somewhere, Robin was waiting for them by the palace in the east woods. His Merry Men around him, a group of outcasts banded together, hoping to make peace with a prince.

If she just disappeared back to the castle, demand Gold summon the Imp, she could just leave this whole mess behind. Stay safe and wait for the rest of the year to pass by, no more princes and princess, no more sociopaths or monsters, just an Imp and a magical castle until December came.

"He's going to make a play for the throne," Ella said hoarsely. "If not by birthright, then by force. The King is old. If something happens to Thomas, the throne's right will be questioned. The nobles will hold a crowning to pick an heir." She paused, stricken for a moment, before continuing, "If he was found to be murdered… perhaps by an outlaw group that has been winning the hearts of the poor and desperate with stolen food and pennies, gaining sympathy from the court with their noble stories of dare-doing and bravery… the whole realm will turn on them."

"Two birds, one stone," Lacey said, turning back around. "What then?"

"The crowning… the nobles will fight amongst themselves. There's no way to assure he would be picked. Unless…" Ella fell silent, eyes widening as realization dawned.

Lacey grew unsettled. "Unless what?" she demanded. Rozenite beide them looked as if he was at a tennis match, his deep blue eyes sweeping from one speaker to the other as his daft smile stayed permanently in place.

"If he marries me, he'll have the Tremaine estate. He'll be able to sell off the land and buy the nobles' votes," Ella began, looking down at her own hands in horror. "If he also happens to captures the very thieves who murdered Thomas, he'll have their respect."

"It'd be a long shot," Lacey murmured. "So, if you're right, what's his next move?"

"Thomas," Ella cried, a hand rising to her mouth to clap the word back in her throat. "Oh, lords, he's going to kill Thomas."

"If he's going to pin that on Robin, he'll need an arrow," Lacey replied.

"He's an well known archer himself," Ella explained. "But the Robin's arrows are unique since he makes his own. Nottingham would have to get his hand on one."

Lacey nodded, pulling her hood back over her curls. "So, we have to get to Robin before the Sheriff does. Do you know how to ride?"

"Of course," Ella told her, striding to the door. "I was a kitchen maid, I wasn't dead. Rozenite," she said, bending down to press a kiss to the butler's cheek. "Thank you for being kind."

Lacey followed her out, turning in bemusement to find Rozenite at the door, beaming down at them as they hurried to the horses. "Men," Lacey snorted.

As the moons overlapped, Lacey and Ella arrived at the edge of the palace lands. Dismounting, Ella nudged Thomas's horse towards the palace gates and Lacey let her mount follow after him. Ella turned, nodding for her to follow her into the woods, before disappearing into the shadows.

"I am growing incredibly sick of woods," Lacey grumbled up to the heavens before following after her. The sky's lights disappeared under the canopy of branches and leaves, and Lacey bumped into Ella who stood on the path, staring straight ahead of her.

"They've been through here," she whispered, indicating broken branches on the side of the path. "Few men abreast, probably guarding something."

"Thomas," Lacey guessed. Ella nodded and moved forward when they heard a bird's trilling call to their left. Lacey ignored it, pressing forward but Ella stopped short, grabbing her cloak and pulling her back.

With a small smile on her face, Ella repeated the call, nearly pitch perfect. Lacey turned to the trees in question, and stumbled backwards when a voice at her shoulder groused, "You're late."

"Hello to you too, William," Ella replied. "William, this is Belle."

The newcomer was already vaguely familiar to Lacey. He had been one of the men who had stepped off the path to surround her and the children a few nights ago. With a red streak in his dark shoulder length hair, he was as handsome as Robin, but for the two large ears that stuck out like car doors from his head.

"You're the bird from the Second Kingdom," he said, with a nod. Lacey was near enough to see his tunic was animal skin, patterned and dyed with rich colors. He caught her looking and moved closer to her, allowing her to see his necklace of beads and animal teeth more clearly as he returned her curious looks.

"A woman in breeches," he said appreciatively. "Different."

"No flirting," Ella chastised him. Lacey grinned back, winking at him. His smile widened as he leaned closer to her. "William Scarlett, this is not the time!" Ella exclaimed in frustration. "We need to find Robin!"

"He's at the camp," William said, not moving his eyes from Lacey. Growing quite glad she hadn't gone off to find Gold, Lacey lifted a hand to touch his arm. He instantly moved closer to her. "You remember the way, don't you, Ella?"

"Belle!" Ella exclaimed in a furious whisper. "Stop making eyes at the thief and let's go!"

"I'll be right behind you," Lacey mumbled.

"Fine," Ella snapped, brushing behind them. "He's already stolen the tiara out of your pocket by the way."

Without shame, the man held up the gleaming trinket and Lacey gaped at him. "Hey!" she growled, reaching up to snag it back from him. "Do that again and you'll lose a hand," she warned him, cramming the tiara back in her cape's pocket.

"Couldn't resist," William said in lieu of an apology. "I like things that shine." His dark brown eyes rested on hers, a finger reaching out to trace her cheekbone.

"If you say like my eyes, I'll knock you on your ass," Lacey warned him as she brushed his hand off her face. "Shame," she told him, turning to trail after Ella. "I could have used some stress relief."

Muted laughter was her only response. A moment later, he had materialized in front of Ella, gesturing for them to follow him. After a while, they left the main path. Ella, in her day dress, paused, before reaching down and ripping her hem off. William didn't pause and Lacey had to grab Ella's hand and hurry after him.

The forest around them buzzed with life. Here and there, William stopped, listening before turning in the complete opposite direction. In the distance, Lacey felt eyes on them, some curious, some friendly, and once William boosted them up a tree for an agonizing five minutes when a faint growling emanated from some nearby bushes. They heard the snorting and scraping of something large passing below them, before it disappeared the way they had come. William did not explain, he just put his tomahawk back away in the belt at his side. He dangled them down out of the tree before heading back off again.

"Do you think he's okay?" Ella whispered to her after a while. "Thomas, I mean?"

Lacey nodded. "They need one of Robin's arrows, right?" Ella nodded, a faint movement in the darkness. "Then, he's fine. If we have a guide taking us to Robin the short way, we'll beat them even if they do know where they're going."

"That lot?" William asked, appearing behind them. "They'll be lost for hours."

Lacey turned, glancing back at the path before back up to where he had been a moment before. "How did you do that?"

"Magic," he whistled, laughing as he surged forward. Ella shook her head at him, but a smile lingered on her lips. Lacey, on the other hand, resisted the urge to throw something at him.

Nearly a half hour later, they emerged into a clearing. There was habitations and fires throughout the space, people pausing and turning to them as if they had been expected. They all had similar features and coloring as Robin and Will, and most were young and hearty.

A trio came to greet them, all speaking in a language Lacey couldn't understand. Ella smiled and touched her lips, her heart, and her forehead in response to the words.

"Custom greeting of our people," William explained, coming up to stand beside her. He nodded towards a group by the fire who were smiling at them, but remained seated. "Care for something to eat?"

"Please," Lacey nodded, following him to the fire. Over the fire there was a pot bubbling, a stew of sort, smelling heavenly but too dark to see. Someone handed her a bowl of it, and she thanked them.

When she glanced about for a spoon, she caught a small boy's eyes. He grinned at her, and tilted his hands as if to drink out of an invisible bowl. She glanced down at the dark liquid and back up to the boy who grinned, two teeth missing on his bottom jaw. She smiled thinly back before putting the bowl in her lap under the pretext of letting it cool. "Where's Little John?" she asked Will.

"Out on patrol," came the reply from a portly man beside her. He looked more like Thomas than Will, fair skin with pale eyes. He smiled at her, nodding towards the bowl in her lap. "Eat up. There's a lot to do this eve."

Ella joined them with the crowd who had greeted her, carrying a toddler girl on her hip. "Friar Tuck!" she exclaimed in delight, setting the child down to embrace the man where he sat. "It's been too long."

"You have had quite a week, my child," he replied, patting her hand. "I was just telling your enchanting friend here that Little John is out waiting for you to appear."

"I've sent the jackalopes out," William said, handing Ella a bowl. She settled down beside the friar, someone offering her a log. She took it gratefully. "They're rounding everyone up."

"The what?" Lacey asked, fingers sticking to the warm bowl's side. Beside her, the fire crackled and popped, but it was too small to give much warmth. A young man stirred the pot, his arm in a makeshift sling. He looked back down when he saw her staring.

"That's what they call the women hunters," Ella explained with a smile. Friar Tuck nodded at her, helping himself to another helping of the stew.

"Okay," Lacey said with a shrug. She decided to let it lie, but her stomach panged as she watched the others eat. That is until she looked down to find an eyeball staring up at her. Gagging slightly, she pressed the bowl into William's nearby hands and clapped a hand to her mouth.

Ella grinned sympathetically at her, before slurping her bowl. "It's a lucky omen," she said. "Getting the eye in your bowl."

"He can have it," Lacey shuddered, watching as William toasted her before slurping the contents of the bowl. He smacked his lips as he lowered the now mostly empty bowl, starting to pick chunks of meat and vegetables out of it. He seemed unfazed by the eyeball still staring up at him.

"The sight of it made me sick," Friar Tuck whispered over the fire to her. "They laughed for weeks."

"You don't eat it, do you?" Lacey asked in disgust as William continued to eat with his fingers.

William laughed, but shook his head. "No, it's just a tradition. Reminds us of home." Lacey looked out to find the small boy watching her, the young toddler in his lap. "Plus, we could use all the luck we can," William finished in a low voice.

"Robin's back!" someone cried. The whole camp seemed to jump to their feet and even more people materialized from the nearby brush. William hopped up and moved to greet his leader, allowing Ella to move to his vacant spot beside Lacey on the log.

"There's a lot of them." The entire camp crowded around the figure which Lacey assumed was Robin. "I didn't realize there were so many."

"Nearly four hundred," Ella confirmed. "And that's just this camp. There's two other camps further north. Alan-a-Dale's been away at one for nearly a year now. I think William's been so reckless lately because he misses him."

"Alan-a-Dale?" Lacey repeated. "Is that a person or a song?"

"Both," Ella replied happily. "He's the tale-teller, the minstrel, the bard. Beautiful voice, sounds just like a bird. Caught an arrow in the side last winter, he went to the sick camp to die."

"But he didn't," Lacey guessed. The crowd was returning back to their hiding holes and blankets, content that their leader was back and all was well. A few glanced curiously at Lacey, but they seemed to know Ella, gesturing to her with the growingly familiar heart, lips, and forehead touches.

"No," Ella said. "He got better. But he's lost the taste for the fight. He prefers the other camps now. He always did say the old and the young have the best stories."

"Belle!" Robin joined them, seating himself beside Belle, and tugging a curl from her head. "My hero!"

"Hello to you too," Ella grumbled, her smile just as infectious in the campe firelight as the kitchen's.

"Now, Ella, when you help me escape prison," Robin said in mock seriousness. "I will greet you as affectionately."

"Robin," Tuck chastised, sitting back down by the fire. Lacey noticed his hands were now holding a cup, full of dark liquid that smelled of honey. "Ella's saved everyone in this camp twice over. Just because she didn't have the pleasure of seeing you in chains…"

Tuck passed Lacey a flask from under his jacket, winking at her as she accepted it with grateful hands. Lacey settled back against Ella, and for a moment, there in the comfort of the fire and the warmth of laughter and new friends, she forgot there was anything more in the world to fear than the dark of the forest.

"Eat," Ella told Robin, passing him a bowl. "We have a lot to talk about."

"It's all right, Ella," Robin said with a heavy sigh. Ella gave him a tight smile, as she shook her head. "All the reports say Nottingham is holed up in the old monastery."

"And Thomas?" Ella asked, voice cracking slightly.

Robin nodded gravely. "He's under guard, but alive. They're waiting for dawn."

"They're after on of your arrows," Lacey told him, nodding towards the quiver on his back. "They're going to kill Thomas and frame you."

"Ah," Robin nodded. "Explains his recent interest in trying to get me to compete in archery. I had wondered what all that show and prompt at the jail was for. Well, not much we can do till the morning."

"I'm not so sure of that," said a voice from the darkness. In a moment, every tree had a crown of light as Robin's people lifted torches up, ringing in the newcomer. He seemed unfazed, wrinkling his brow at them in distaste. "Such dramatics," he giggled, spreading his hands out before him.

"The Dark One," Ella breathed. Robin's bow was already out, arrow pointed at the Imp's heart.

"Hello, dearies," he waved. "No need for all that, I've only come to collect my maid."

As every head swung in her direction, Lacey groaned and took another long sip of Tuck's flask.

* * *

Whew! Alright, thank you for reading! I know this chapter was a bit Imp light but I can promise going forward he will play a much larger role in all chapters. It was very important for this story to unfold with Lacey on her own for a bit, although I understand and admit for a shipper perspective that was a bit sad. However, with Gold being in the picture, I can say that the next arc will be much more interesting for shippers.

Much love as always to Ramloth for editing!

Time for some good news bad news.

Bad News, this is as far as I have written to date, which means there will be a bit of down time for a while as far as updates.

Good news, I have decided to do a pseudo NaWriMo and try and get through another 50k in the next 30 days! My hope is to finish up the First Kingdom storyline before plunging headlong into the next arc which will take place in the Second Kingdom, as we have some unfinished business there.

(Teaser for the next arc: Lettuce.)


	31. Chapter 31

No one said a word.

They just skirted around the center campfire, dark shadows in the moonlight as they hurried by. As soon as the Imp had arrived, the people of the camp had fled back to their own respective campfires and lodgings, leaving the center campfire bare except for the two of them. Even Ella had disappeared with Robin and Friar Tuck. She hadn't even looked back.

Lacey felt the cold now more than ever, and clutched the drink closer to her chest. She tried to not care. She failed miserably.

Beside her, the Imp wrinkled his nose as he inspected the stew. With a murmur of disdain, he dropped the lid back on it before reseating himself on the nearest log. "Disgusting," he grumbled, wiping his hands on his breeches. "No one knows how to properly spice meat anymore. It's a travesty."

"Why are you here?" Lacey gritted out, fingers tightening around the earthen mug.

He huffed. "I just said," he pointed out. "You've proven it's impossible for you to stay out of trouble. I left you in the hands of a kitchen maid, and yet here you are, traipsing around a forest after I so kindly sprung you out of jail."

"So, you did send Gold."

He merely shrugged, examining his nails, his hygiene more concerning than her quickly growing ire.

"Figures," Lacey grumbled. "So, why come now? Why come at all?"

"Because now I've grown tired of your little antics," he shot back. "I sent you to collect a witch's hair, and you mangled it. If I had wanted her dead, I would have done it myself."

"Your little task nearly got us all killed," Lacey got to her feet, scowling down at where he sat composed and relaxed on the log.

"Only," he replied, eyes looking straight ahead at the fire, "because you continue to fail to realize actions have consequences."

"Fuck you," Lacey spat. "You sit there like you haven't been the reason I've been put in these situations! You're the one sending me off to my death left and right! 'Oh, here you go dearie, go make a deal with a mermaid.'"

"I never said to agree to help her win her prince. You made that deal on your own."

Ignoring the small voice in her head that knew he was right, she continued recklessly. "'It's just a walk in the forest, the kids will show you the way!' It was a cannibal witch, you heartless, sick son of a bitch!" Her raised voice was drawing a crowd, huddling under the tree branches around the clearing.

"I didn't realize you were so fond of children."

"You left me there! If Robin hadn't found us, if Ella hadn't taken me in, what was I supposed to have done?"

"Stay put, perhaps?" he suggested, finally looking up at her. His eyes were molten in the firelight, and his upturned face shone in the moonlight. It was unsettling, but Lacey didn't avert her gaze. "Return to the Woodcutter's cottage? Use your brain for once?"

Lacey chuckled mirthlessly, shaking her head before downing the rest of the spice drink Friar Tuck had left behind. "Well, you win," she sighed, tossing the cup down to the dirt at her feet. "They'll never trust me now."

"I didn't figure you as the type for self pity, Belle," a voice cut in from behind her.

Startled, Lacey nearly tripped over the log as she twisted around. Ella stood there, arms crossed as she regarded the two of them. Behind her stood Robin, Little John, Friar Tuck and William, all their faces cloaked in shadow. She didn't dare look at the Imp.

"You made a deal with the Dark One for me," Ella said, taking a step forward and capturing Lacey's hands in her own. "I'll never know why, or how, but I will not condemn you for it. Not when you've given me a reason to hope again."

"Ella," Lacey began, but her throat was dry and she felt the words stick there. She cleared her throat and offered a half-hearted shrug. Ella merely smiled down at her, before she turned to the being in question.

"Dark One," she said respectfully. Lacey rolled her eyes at his answering grin. "You have my thanks for the magic you bestowed on me those three nights, and even more gratitude for the company of your servant."

"I am not his servant!" Lacey protested. Ella shot her a look which she ignored. "I'm not," she added, throwing a dark look to the Merry Men who still stood in the shadows. From his prone position on the log, the Imp grinned up at her.

"We would ask only to say our goodbyes to her before you depart," Ella continued. "She has been a staunch ally and will be sorely missed."

"She's just a girl," the Imp replied, casting a quizzical look at Ella. "Gotten you in more hot water than she's helped. Why, you were perfectly fine before you knew love. Would you have missed it?"

He popped up before Ella could respond, moving towards the Merry Men. The campfire seemed to grow, reaching higher as the flames were stoked by an invisible hand. The light reached out to brighten the faces of the men, who now had their weapons drawn. The Imp seemed unimpressed, stopping just before Robin and smirking at the arrow pointed at his throat.

"You'll remember," he said with a flourish of his wrist. "I cannot be killed by such things."

The men all exclaimed in distress, finding their weapons had turned into snakes in their very grips. William bolted up on to the shoulders of Little John who had cast his snake as far from him as possible, making the nearest tree's top branches rustle as it lodged in the boughs.

Robin stared at the snake at his feet, hissing at him as it coiled around his legs. His face was pinched but he did not flinch, looking back up at the Imp as he tittered. "Now, you lot. Robin Hood here wouldn't have to have escaped prison, which is a crime, you know. You've got a very large bounty on your head. And now, kidnapping as well," he hiked his thumb back at Ella. "He'll add harboring a criminal when he says you've got my loudmouth. He'll have every reason to raze this place to the ground at dawn."

"Perhaps," Robin replied, voice tense. He did not dare to move a muscle as the snake inched its way up his body, fangs exposed and venom dripping as it slithered its way over his chest. "He would have done it eventually. Belle has given us warning, she has given us hope and we intend to use it."

"False hope," the Imp pointed out. "She does work for me, after all."

"I don't believe that," Robin said, and his eyes darted to Lacey's for a moment. "She repaid her debt to me, she has stood by her friends and she stands here even now when the way out is open to her. She is more than just your servant, Dark One. She is a friend of the realm."

There was a rather unpleasant heat pooling behind her eyes and Lacey rubbed at it, pretending the smoke had caused them to water. Ella's hand came to rest on her shoulder, and Lacey did not brush it away.

"Interesting," the Imp drawled. "Well, dearie, you seem to have an odd habit of making friends wherever you go. However, you do still owe me a debt."

"I know," Lacey acknowledged. She fished out the hair of the Blind Witch from her corset, holding it out in the palm of her hand. "This takes care of one of those."

"So it does," he acknowledged, coming over and taking it from her. "Although it does seem to have come at quite a price."

"You're telling me," Lacey grumbled under her breath, snatching her hand away. "I'm done with magic. No more witches, amulets, and magical creatures."

"You're ready to return to the castle?" he asked, pocketing the hair and looking back at her quizzically. "Despite your friends being in peril? My, I find myself surprised."

"Don't be," Lacey sighed. "I've just made a mess of things."

"You've done no such thing," Ella said, still at her side. "You've shown us that we can change our lives if we dare to try."

"As nice as this is," William called out from his perch on Little John's shoulders. "There's still a snake wrapped around Robin's throat."

"Oh, yes, forgot!" The Imp chuckled, turning and snapping his fingers. He aimed his finger at Robin and the next moment, the snake disappeared, leaving a bow draped around Robin's neck. The man gasped for air, sinking down to his knees in relief. "Better?"

"Belle," Ella whispered, clutching her hands again in a tight squeeze. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah," Lacey promised her, feeling incredibly helpless. "He's got this whole 'has to keep me safe' deal with a friend of mine. So, there's that."

Ella nodded, her eyes full of tears as she nodded reassuringly. "I don't know how to repay you for everything you've done for me," she said, voice thick with emotion. "You've showed me there's hope even in the darkest of places."

"I got you locked up in the attic," Lacey pointed out, smiling the best she could. "I'm not even helping you rescue Thomas…"

"It's okay," Ella assured her, sniffing. "We'll come up with a plan."

"Tick tock," the Imp sang from beyond them, but Lacey ignored him. This time at least she was going to get to say goodbye.

"I'm sure it'll be great," Lacey told her, before she let her own hands fall from Ella's grip. Ella looked up, tears already running down her face but Lacey pretended not to see. She made her way to where Robin had regained his feet, staring daggers at the Imp who was grinning incorrigibly at him from his place by the fire.

"Robin," Lacey laughed, nudging his arm. "Relax. Just don't point arrows at wizards and you'll be fine."

"I don't trust him," Robin growled, fingers tightening on his bow. "You don't have to go with him."

"Yeah," Lacey said, shaking her head. "I do. Tell Marian I said goodbye after you rescue Thomas and earn a pardon, okay?"

Robin's glanced down at her, a grudging smile on his lips. "My dear lady, don't you ever doubt at all?"

"All the time," she admitted with a shrug. "Trick is to act like you know what you're doing."

"Before sunrise, if it suits your royal highness," the Imp called out sarcastically.

"I'm coming!" Lacey snapped over her shoulder. "Would you just let me say goodbye? I'm never going to see them again!"

"Don't say that," Robin said, frowning at her. "You don't know that."

"Ah, but I do," Lacey said, thinking of her world beyond the gate. If all went as planned, she'd never see any of them again. She'd spend years in psychotherapy, trying to make sense of all this. Sometimes, she hoped she had a bad reaction to medication or had hitten her head on that horse back on the hill and was in a coma somewhere.

"Be safe," she said, smiling tightly. Robin made a motion towards her but she stepped back, smiling at where Little John, Friar Tuck and William were watching from a safe distance. "Take care of them," she told them before turning away.

There were faces in the shadows, everyone watching as she marched toward the Dark One. Whispers floated in the early hours of dawn, and she felt the eyes of friends and strangers on them as she looked up and caught his eye. "I'm ready," she said, closing her eyes as a tear threatened to slip out. "Let's go."

She braced herself for the swirl of smoke, the noxious fumes of magic choking her, but instead found the wariness of the forest still around her. She peeked one eye open to find the Imp frowning at her in thought.

"What?" she demanded, looking down at herself. "What's the matter?"

"You want to stay," he said. "Why?"

"They're my friends," Lacey said incredulously. "Haven't you ever had friends?"

"No," he replied shortly, glancing behind her at the campfire where Ella still stood. Lacey didn't dare breathe, watching him in disbelief.

The moons were beginning to set, and the owls no longer hooted in the treetops. Instead, there was a powerful stillness that seemed to seep into the air, as if something was coming on the heels of the dawn. Lacey felt it encroaching, and she was torn between running from it and running towards it. Behind her, she heard people falling silent, waiting with bated breath to hear what the Dark One would say next.

"You can stay."

"I can what?" Unsure if she had heard him right, Lacey asked again. "Did you say I can stay?"

He nodded, eyes switching to where Robin stood behind her. "On one condition."

"Name it!" Ella cried out and Lacey waved her hand at her to shush her. She knew better than Ella what a deal with the devil cost.

"What's the catch?" Lacey asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No catch," he grumbled. "I just don't want you moping around the castle for the next few months. You were bad enough the last time."

"You're serious?" she said in disbelief. "I can stay?"

"You can stay until this business is settled. Our deal was for three nights at the ball and by my count you only attended two. A wedding or a funeral should be sufficient, don't you think?"

Lacey wasn't able to respond before she heard Ella's feet crunching over the leaves to join them. "Thank you!" Ella enthused, bowing low before the Dark One.

The Imp smiled smugly at the two of them. Glancing from Ella's bent back to Lacey's scowl with an eyebrow wiggle that conveyed his amusement of the situation all too well. "Get up," Lacey hissed, tugging at her friend's arm. "You're embarrassing me."

"Oh, and a little gift for the soon to be newlyweds is in order," the Imp added. He snapped his fingers and smoke billowed forth. Wincing, Lacey closed her eyes against the terrible fumes and felt her own arms grow heavy as something weighty landed in them.

"The hell is this?" Lacey demanded, staring down at a bow nearly the size of her. "It's huge!"

"It's magnificent!" Robin whistled, moving to join her and Ella. "I've never seen anything like this… It's almost as if…" His voice died away as his fingers took it from Lacey. She handled it over gladly, shooting the Imp another look. He merely smiled at her, clearly enjoying himself which was suspicious on its own.

"It's Fail-Not," Little John whispered, and Lacey nearly jumped out of her skin. The gentle giant had approached them, and she hadn't heard him in the slightest. William had gotten off his back finally, and was on the other side of Robin, eyes huge in his face.

"It can't be," Robin said, but his fingers slowed over the intricate carvings in the wood as if reading the story of the bow with his fingertips.

"Oh, but I assure you it is," the Imp replied. "Picked it up almost a century ago in the Sixth Kingdom." 

"What the hell is Fail-Not?" Lacey asked Ella, who shrugged uncertainty. "Sounds like a birth control product," she mumbled to herself, eyeing the enormous bow.

"It's the birthright of my people," Robin answered. "The founder of my tribe made it from the wood of the first tree. He strung it with the gut of the first deer, and Mother Nature bestowed upon it a great blessing since he was pure of heart. It has never missed its target."

"Actually, magically speaking," the Imp added, "it's just enchanted to never miss its target. Nothing special about it other than that really."

"Shut it," Lacey hissed through clenched teeth. Behind them, more and more of the camp was inching closer, all with wide eyes and whispering amongst themselves. "It's their culture."

"It's my bow!"

"You stole it!" Lacey accused, gesturing towards Robin's blissful expression. "Look! It's clearly theirs!"

"It was a gift to the future queen," the Imp grumbled. "She can give it to them if she wants."

"I do," Ella answered hastily. A cheer went up from the crowd, all pushing closer to see it. "Will this help us rescue Thomas?"

"It will," Robin avowed, straightening. He handed his own bow to William before draping the mythical bow over his chest. "We need to get moving, we can't have them attack the camp. There are too many people here."

"The jackalopes are back," Little John said, as the Merry Men began to move away. The crowd followed them, all jostling to get a better look at the bow. "We have a long way to travel before dawn."

"I'll be going now," the Imp declared. "Lots to do."

"Thank you," Ella said again, bowing once more. Lacey just stared at him with an arched brow. Ella elbowed her as she straightened, nodding towards the Imp with a raised brow of her own. "Belle…"

Lacey shook her head. She had made a promise to herself and she did not intend to break it now. Besides, he was only letting her stay, it was the least he could do. "See you after the wedding."

"Not if I see you first," he said, and for a moment, Lacey swore she saw something on his face beside his usual manic grin. Before she could look closer, a column of smoke surrounded him and then he was gone.

"I can't believe you," Ella breathed, turning to her with wide eyes. "He could have turned you into a toad!"

"Hasn't yet," Lacey said with a smile. "Besides, I'm starting to think he likes having someone tell him 'no' from time to time."

"Sun's almost up," Friar Tuck said, coming towards them. "Robin's got a plan, but I'm not sure you'll like it."

"What?" Ella asked, but Lacey already knew the answer.

"He wants to use us as bait," she groaned, shaking her head. "He's got Nottingham's bride to be and Nottingham's most wanted in camp, where he most definitely does not want the fight to be."

"Very true," Robin said, coming up behind Tuck. "I'm sorry Ella, but the Dark One was right. If you stay in camp and something goes wrong, he would be able to lay waste to the camps under the law of the realms. I'm a known criminal, but you're a citizen of the land. He has the power of the crown behind him in more ways than one where you're concerned."

"Fine," Lacey sighed. "I'm only agreeing to this because you have the bow of power or whatever."

"Bow of Legend," Robin corrected her. "We need to move before first light. If we can get to the monastery before they leave, we'll have higher ground."

"And they'll have a building with four walls and roof," Lacey argued. "That's bad."

"That's good," Ella replied. "They'd be trapped. The monastery is only made for a hundred men or so."

"Oh, and we have a hundred men?" Lacey demanded, looking around. "All I see is fifty if we're lucky."

"We'll have the forest," Robin assured her. "We're used to making our numbers seem larger than they are. It'll be fine. All we need is Nottingham to come out of the walls, and we'll have our man."

"What about the guards?" Ella asked.

"Hopefully the fight will go out of them knowing their leader is dead, and their Crown Prince is still very much alive and incensed."

"Thomas won't be angry at them," Ella said with a frown. "He'll just say they were following orders."

"Sure, orders to kill him," William grumbled, joining them. "Very forgiving fellow this prince of yours? Sounds good for us."

"Quiet, William," Robin grunted, shooting the younger man a sharp look. "You're speaking to the future Queen."

"Don't 'Queen' me just yet, Robin," Ella said, turning and heading towards a group of women gathering at the edge of the camp fire. They had bows on their backs, and all wore the same tanned skin color with stripes across the back.

"What say you?" Robin asked, turning to Lacey with a smile. "Are you in?"

"Fine," Lacey grumbled. "How can it go wrong?"


	32. Chapter 32

By the time they reached the monastery, Lacey deeply regretted not taking up the Imp's offer.

"Come on, Belle," Ella urged from up ahead. "We're almost there!"

Lacey shot her an incredulous look. It was slightly ruined by the fact she was out of breath, huffing and puffing as she leaned against the nearest tree for support. "You said that an hour ago," Lacey called after her, pushing off the tree.

Cursing the near pitch darkness, Lacey made her way to where Ella stood under a rock wall that spread as far as Lacey could see. Despite everything, Ella looked perfectly composed after their two hour hike through the forest. Lacey stumbled to a stop, disliking how both Robin and Ella were glancing upwards thoughtfully. "How are we supposed to get around this?" she demanded irritably. "Fly?"

"We climb," Robin answered, shifting his bow and quiver to drape off his back. He looked positively thrilled at the prospect. Ella nodded along with him as if this made perfect sense. She started to unbuckle the cloak Robin had lent her, handing it over to Lacey before she could protest.

Lacey glanced back at the hurdle in question. She had been rock climbing once, on a terrible blind date, and she had been safely harnessed, inside and sufficiently buzzed enough to give it a try. Still, she had failed miserably at it, and had given up after ten minutes. "You've got to be kidding me," she protested, even as Robin bent down to hoist Ella up to grab at a rocky projection a few feet up. "Ella, get down from there before you break your neck."

Ella shot her a smile over her shoulder, before returning her attention back to the task at hand. Robin watched her, standing alert below in case of any trouble. He needn't have bothered; in the doe-skin tunic the jackalopes had lent her, Ella scaled the cliff face effortlessly. By the time she pulled herself over the ledge, she seemed barely out of breath.

"Your turn, Belle!" Ella called down. "Just take your time!"

Robin turned to her, but Lacey shook her head. "You're nuts, the both of you. There's no way in hell I'm climbing up that."

"I hate you. I hate you both so much," Lacey groaned from her hunched position on a nearby log. Her arms were cramping and her heart rate was still outrageously fast from the adrenaline and strenuous exercise.

"You did fine, Belle," Ella encouraged her. "Besides, we didn't have time go around. It's nearly dawn."

"So you say," Lacey grunted. "Are we're almost there or what?"

"The monastery is just around those trees," Robin answered, appearing from nowhere. Startled, both women jumped, betraying their frayed nerves and lack of sleep. Lacey was content to shoot him a dark look, but Ella hurried forward to meet him.

"Oh, Thomas," she murmured, hands wringing in front of her. "Please be okay."

"Looks like the Sheriff's men are still sleeping," Robin answered. "There was a guard on duty, but Little John took care of him. Everyone is in position."

"Wait, how did anyone manage to beat us here?" Lacey demanded, standing up despite her body's vehement protests. "We were practically running!"

"They just made better time," Robin shrugged.

"You mean they didn't have us slowing them down," Ella responded. "I told you we could have tried to keep up with the main group."

Robin looked over at Lacey and she caught his eye. He looked away hastily but not before Lacey caught his meaning. "You may have been able to," Lacey grumbled, joining her. "I'm dead on my feet as it is."

"You're also loud," came a new voice. "We could hear you complaining from across the realm."

A woman had materialized behind them, no small feat considering the space behind them was empty of trees and the only way around them was up the cliff they had themselves just climbed.

"Oochigeas," Robin greeted. "Well met." Ella smiled at the newcomer, touching her lips, heart and forehead in the customary greeting. Oochigeas did the same, but her eyes strayed to Lacey.

"This is the Dark One's spy?" she demanded of Robin without looking away. "Why did you bring her?"

"I'm here," Lacey grumbled through clenched teeth, "because I can help."

The woman scoffed, tossing her head in angry disbelief. "You can't be serious, Robin."

"I trust her," Robin interjected, and his voice, pitched low, rang with authority. "You will respect her as a friend of the camp."

The woman opened her mouth to respond, but quickly snapped it close. She cast Lacey another dark look, and this time Lacey was able to see her more clearly as the heralding streaks of dawn created lurking shadows.

The jackalope had a proud face. Despite her clenched jaw and her beak-like nose, she was an arresting woman. Her prominent feature, however, was not anything with which she had been born. Her entire face was scarred, puckered, and shiny as if it had been burnt and stretched into the shape it was now. Her left eye was milky white with no brow over it, and the other a dark black that was glaring at Lacey knowingly.

"Well met," Lacey finally replied, tentatively doing the customary greeting that she had seen Ella perform. The woman turned away, back towards Robin.

"They told me you had Fail-Not," she said, eyeing the bow clutched in Robin's hand. "You can no longer deny leadership with that in your hands."

"I did not deny my responsibilities," Robin replied, knuckles whitening. "Only the title."

The scarred woman did not respond, but after a moment, she nodded. "My jackalopes have surrounded the monastery. One every three trees as you directed. The Merry Men are in the branches, awaiting your arrival."

"Excellent," Robin said, pulling an arrow from his quiver. "I only need the chance."

"You'll have it," Oochigeas answered. With a touch of her heart, she was gone.

Lacey shook her head as Ella turned back to the trees to peer down at the monastery below. "Dramatic, much?"

"Oochigeas does not have much love for your people," Robin explained. "When she was a young child, her tribe was caught in the first of the battles of the realm's armies. She survived, but barely."

"That's terrible," Lacey said, moving back towards the vantage point overlooking the monastery. "Still. What a bitch."

"Belle!" Ella cried, elbowing her hard in the ribs. "She'll hear you!"

"Ow," Lacey groaned, rubbing at her ribs. She lashed back out at Ella, swatting her upper arm. "Stop hitting me!"

"I'm sorry," Ella said, flushing. "I'm just nervous."

"Well, doesn't give you an excuse to bruise me," Lacey grumbled, clutching her side. "Nottingham will happily do it for you."

"It's time," Robin told them, sliding up beside them. "Remember the plan?"

"Act like we've been lost in the woods all night," Lacey answered, "and approach the monastery like we're seeking help."

He pointed between them, his finger aiming at a spot down in the monastery glen, about twenty paces from the door. "If they don't stop you by there, pretend to twist your ankle and fall. Any closer and I won't have a clear shot."

"What if Nottingham doesn't come out?" Ella asked, peering down at the glen below. There was some movement in the halls; they could hear the sounds of men awakening, and soon they would be milling forward into the glen below. Lacey agreed with Ella. If Nottingham failed to come out, they would have a battle on their hands that they could not win. Knights in armor versus men in trees was not a fair fight, element of surprise or no.

"If he doesn't take the bait, fall down flat, stay down and don't move no matter what, understood?"

"Understood," Ella replied breathlessly.

Lacey simply rolled her eyes. "Do not let me get killed," she told Robin, leveling a finger at him. "The Dark One will squash you like a bug, got it?"

"Understood," Robin repeated solemnly. "Remember if anything goes wrong-"

"Play dead," Lacey groaned. "Yes, got it."

"Good luck," Robin whispered.

Lacey nodded, turning back to the glen with a sigh, her shoulders slumping. Ella stood beside her, arms hugging herself, lost in thought as wind whistled across the back of their necks. Lacey suppressed a shiver, remembering an old saying about stepping on graves. "Shall we?" Lacey asked brusquely, indicating the rough path winding below them. Ella nodded, and stepped towards the point of no return.

They made their way down the hill, thankfully nowhere as steep as the cliff face. Lacey slid a few times, and Ella's hair caught on some low branches, but they eventually arrived in the glen just as the sun hit the ceiling of the old building. Neither of them felt particularly brave at the moment, but as the night began to fade, they could hear rustling indicating Nottingham's men were stirring.

"Belle, look," Ella whispered, pointing at the door. A man had strode out, still half asleep as he meandered his way to the edge of the clearing. He lowered his breeches, preparing to piss when all of a sudden, without warning, he was jerked out of sight.

"Nice," Lacey whistled. The leaves where he had vanished had already settled back into place. Perhaps there was some hope after all. "Okay, ready?"

"Won't they wonder where he went?" Ella asked, staring at the area. Her hands were clasped over her heart, and her calloused fingers worried her cracked nail beds. The first light of dawn was approaching the clearing, and the pending doom of Thomas's execution hung over them both.

"They'll have other things to worry about," Lacey reassured her. "Now, come on. Act tired."

"Easy enough," Ella replied with a yawn. On cue, Lacey's own mouth widened in a jaw-cracking yawn of her own, and they stepped into the sunlight, blinking as they both fought back the exhaustion creeping in on them.

They moved slowly, leaning to the side slightly, wiping away the leaves from their hair and tugging their clothing back into place. Ella fastened her borrowed cloak, hiding the tell tale doeskin outfit underneath. Lacey glanced down at her own borrowed clothes. They easily looked as if they had been walking all night, with bags under their eyes and dirt caking their shoes. Still, something felt off.

Lacey didn't dare look over at Ella, but she made sure to lag behind, forcing the leggy woman beside her to slow down to match her pace. "We're almost at the twenty paces mark," Ella whispered under the guise of another yawn. "Should we turn back?"

"Steady," Lacey answered, catching a shadow in the cracked front wall. "Someone's watching us."

"Nottingham?" Ella whispered, clutching her elbow and stopping abruptly. "Belle, he knows something's wrong."

"Well, he probably does now," Lacey hissed, covered Ella's hand where it was digging into her flesh. "It's kind of hard to pretend to fall down when you're standing still, Ella."

"Ladies."

They needn't have worried. Standing in the now open doorway was the man himself, the vile Sheriff of Nottingham. He did not move, but in the next instant, every window had a soilder in it, all aiming arrows directly at them. None of them looked tired or dirty, Lacey noticed irritably.

"Nottingham," Lacey replied. "Funny seeing you here. I was under the impression you had slithered back into the hole from which you spawned."

"Careful, pet," Nottingham drawled from his shielded position by the door. "I didn't sleep too well last night. The prince's screams kept me up so I'm bound to be a bit short-tempered this morning."

"Bastard," Lacey grumbled, already wishing for the knife hidden in her boot. Little John had insisted they conceal weapons on their person. Ella's knife was tucked away in a holster at her side but Marian's riding clothes had no pockets. Of all the things she missed, her favorite pair of jeans was the one she wished for the most. They would have been incredibly useful more times than not.

Nottingham was still too far away. He was still in the shadows, the door blocking Robin's angle. They'd have to lure him out. "Now, is that anyway to speak to the future queen?" Lacey asked, forcing laughter into her voice. "You need to work on your social skills, Sheriff."

Ella, catching on, hurriedly pulled her hood down, exposing her identity. A stray ray of sunshine illuminated her dark hair, glinting off like burnished silver. Nottingham looked intrigued, but he did not move. Lacey's heart began to speed up, her fingers fumbling for the knife that was too far way to reach.

"Ah, so it is you, my love," Nottingham greeted Ella coldly. "I thought I had left you locked up. No matter, I assume you've come to wish me good luck?"

"I've come for the prince," Ella declared, standing firm. "If you turn Thomas over to us, perhaps you won't hang for treason."

"Hmm," Nottingham thought, smiling nastily. "No, I don't think so. You see, I have an army, all happy to obey their current commander and future king."

The army in question looked less like career soldiers and more like thieves and murderers. Lacey caught one grinning at her in a toothless smile and she stepped closer to Ella. Nottingham continued. "All you have, Ella, is some two-bit whore and a false sense of confidence."

"Did he just call me a whore?" Lacey growled under her breath. "I'm going to tear his goddamn eyes out when I get a hold of him, I swear to God."

"Enough of this," Nottingham said. "I don't want us to fight, Ella, my love. That's no way to start a marriage. How about this? You give me your little pet there and I'll give you your precious prince."

Ella looked askance in puzzlement. Lacey, just as confused, shrugged back. Nottingham's interest in her had been intense from the start, but there was no reason he would feasibly want to trade the prince's life for her's. Ella seemed to have come to the same conclusion, moving to her left. Lacey followed her, hoping Nottingham would follow suit, giving Robin an opening.

"Why would I do that?" Ella demanded, crossing her arms. "You think I'm stupid enough to think you'd allow us to leave in peace?"

"Dearest Ella," Nottingham laughed, coming slightly out into the sun. Lacey's heart gave a leap, her body bracing for the sound of arrow being loosened from a bow.

Nottingham's eyes flashed in the light, but no arrow appeared from the trees above them. All around them, there was an eerie silence. No birds whistled, no bugs buzzed, and the feeling of being watched itched at Lacey's skin. "Do you think I'm such a fool to not know the Merry Men are, at this very moment, all around us?" he laughed.

There was a rustle, and then from the trees, came the people in question. They appeared with only the slightest sound, an announcement of their presence, a showing of their force. Lacey didn't dare look around them, watching instead as Nottingham surveyed them. "Ah," he said, nodding to himself. "More than I had thought, but no matter. You may not believe me, my love, but I have no use of Thomas myself."

Figures appeared in the shadows of the doorway, and then with a murmured protest, a figure came tumbling out at the Sheriff's feet. Nottingham leaned down and yanked the wiggling form up by its hair. "See? Pathetic. Now, your little pet on the other hand… Her, I could use."

"Thomas!" Ella gasped, wrenching forward. Lacey braced herself, tugging the much taller woman back even as an arrow released from the inner wall, embedding itself in the dirt a mere foot in front of them. Ella stumbled backwards, but her eyes remained on Thomas.

He was bloodied, dirty and looked half dead on his feet. His left eye was swollen shut, purple and black and his lip was busted open. He could barely stand, but the Sheriff propped him up, using him as a human shield of sorts. His regal head lolled to the side, barely conscious from what looked to be numerous beatings.

"Oh," Ella moaned, biting her own lip hard enough to draw blood. "What have you done to him?"

"Nothing true love's kiss couldn't fix," Nottingham laughed, shaking Thomas slightly. His head lolled sickeningly like a puppet with it's strings cut. "What do you say my dear?" Nottingham asked, enjoying her distress immensely. "Do we have a deal?"

"Why does he want me?" Lacey asked Ella under her breath. "He's not insane enough to throw away his life for a little revenge."

Ella did not respond, but stood there, trembling in worry as Thomas's knees almost buckled from beneath him. Nottingham grasped him tightly. The bastard was large enough to hold the tall, slender prince easily. Still, he did not move towards them, nor did any of the Merry Men or jackalopes move forward to intervene. There was a sense of waiting in the air, even the guards felt it.

Lacey wondered what was keeping Robin. Despite the poise of his people, they too had a sense of tense anxiety, waiting for their leader to issue a command. Still, none of them risked looking up at the hill, too much was hanging in the balance. As the sun cleared the treetops, Nottingham glanced up at the hill above, waiting for something else entirely. Lacey's stomach dropped as realization kicked in.

"Ella," Lacey whispered, pulling the woman closer to her. "We've been set up."

"What?"

"Get back to the path," Lacey urged, starting to back them away from the monastery. "He knows the plan."

"That's impossible," Ella argued, wrenching her arm away. "How could he?"

"The first guard," Lacey whispered. "It was the signal for us to come down, they set it all up! "

Before they could get to the relative safety of the low brush, there was the sound of branches breaking and crunching as something very large pitched off the top of the hill behind them. Lacey whirled around, but Ella stayed facing Nottingham. The large object continued down the hill, and when it finally rolled to a stop at the bottom, Lacey saw a hand through the bare bushes, limp and empty of the bow it had held moments ago. She felt nauseous.

"Robin," she muttered, closing her eyes against the sight. "Oh god, Robin…"

There was a sound of a bird whistle, clear and high pitched and the very next second, the entire clearing was full of guards. They were like black ghosts, pushing forward the overwhelmed and outnumbered camp members, all too stunned to put up a fight. There was only a brief scuffle from the far trees. The next moment, Oochigeas came tumbling out of her tree, face bloodied as a guard hoisted her to her feet.

"Bastards," the scarred woman spat at her assailant, reaching up to try and pry his helmet from his shoulders. He backhanded her. Her head snapped back and she went eerily silent.

"My, my, that was almost too easy" Nottingham said, moving forward. He released Thomas, who dropped like a sack of potatoes at his feet. Ella cried out and, heedless of the danger, rushed forward to him, past a smirking Nottingham. Ella collapsed beside the prince, cradling his prone body in her lap, whispering to him as she pushed the bloody hair back from his forehead.

Nottingham ignored his betrothed. Instead, he lazily approached her instead, eyes raking over her. Lacey stayed stock still. The knife in her boot was heavy, and she repeated the plan under her breath. "If anything goes wrong, fall down and play dead." She took a shaky breath as Nottingham came closer, a smirk of victory on his twisted face. "If anything goes wrong, fall down and play dead."

Before she could follow through, she heard the noise of someone emerging from the thicket behind her. She whirled, half hoping for Robin to be standing there, only to find William Scarlett walking towards her, Fail-Not clutched in his grip.

For a moment, relief washed over her. Then, she saw the shame in William's face and her eyes dropped to where Robin's body lay and her stomach rolled unpleasantly. The thief followed her gaze to where Robin lay, and his face went pale as he stared at his fallen leader. He made no move to aim the bow, nor a move to go to Robin.

"Yes, well met," Nottingham said, and Lacey spun back around to find he was inches away from her now. "I'll admit I didn't think you could actually pull it off, but I'm pleasantly surprised."

"William?" Lacey said low, ignoring Nottingham. "What did you do?"

He looked away, ears turning red as he shuffled forward. When he reached them, Nottingham plucked the bow from his grip, holding it up to the morning sun. It looked wrong in Nottingham's grip, and Will averted his eyes from the sight. "You're disgusting," Lacey growled at him. "They trusted you! You betrayed your own people. For him!"

"Oh, don't be too hard on him," Nottingham whispered, eyes glinting cruelly. He stepped forward and Lacey felt her stomach go hollow. He dragged a filthy fingertip over her cheek as he smiled down at her. "He betrayed everyone and everything he has ever known in the name of love."

"Love?" Lacey spat, wrenching her face away from Nottingham's grip. "You killed us all for love?"

"He has Ana," William blurted, but he wasn't just speaking to Lacey. He was speaking to the entire clearing, his voice shaking with suppressed emotion. "He was going to sell her into service in the Sixth Kingdom. I had to. I had to!"

"Shut up, Scarlett," Lacey growled. "You've done enough."

"Your precious milk maid is in the old gatekeeper's house on the border of the Second Kingdom," Nottingham sighed. "I don't see how such a cow is worth the lives of your companions, but I'm grateful. Now, go before I change my mind."

Will looked stricken, but finally he nodded. With one last look back, he disappeared into the forest. Around her, the people of the Third Realm looked utterly defeated. She saw Little John, being held back by four guards, all aiming lances at his throat. He had a cut over his eye and a bloody lip, but he was weeping openly. Ella clung to Thomas, her face pressed against his chest as her shoulders trembled with quiet sobs. Everywhere Lacey looked, there was hopelessness. They had lost.

Nottingham was fiddling with his prize, plucking at the string of the bow as he let Lacey look her fill. "He was very useful," he confided to her. "Never been able to capture one of them before but one of my sources informed me there was a savage wooing a milk maid up north. Once I had the girl, he found me. He was more than willing to cooperate.

"Not only did he let me know the plan for rescuing the prince, he made it here this morning first to warn me of the so-called magical bow, a present from the Dark One himself." Nottingham lifted the bow up, admiring it. "With this, the crown is mine."

There was a second, just a brief moment where Lacey let herself give up. Then, in the next heartbeat, she began to laugh. Hysteria, fatigue and grief swirled through her bloodstream like a double shot of tequila.

"Magic bow?" Lacey repeated, shaking her head. Nottingham's eyes narrowed, lowering the bow as he glared back down at her. "God, you'll believe anything."

"Stop that," Nottingham snarled, stepping closer. "Stop that at once!"

Lacey just laughed harder, feeling her knees weaken as she bent in two, clutching her stomach. She hadn't laughed like this since the doctor had told them it was cancer, inoperable. She hadn't felt tears prickling her eyes and laugher burning her gut since the wake when everyone had patted her on the head and murmured meaningless platitudes about her dead mother. She welcomed it this time.

Unnerved, Nottingham grasped her chin with his free hand, wrenching her upright. "You're saying he lied?" Nottingham demanded. His fingers pinched but she kept the smile on her face. She had to buy them time. She had to do something before he won for good. Thomas was still alive. Ella was still alive. There was still hope.

"Of course he lied," Lacey told him. His breath was putrid, but she kept his gaze. "You think the Dark One would bestow a magical bow upon them?" She spread her arms out, casting a scornful expression at the captured people. "Look at them. They're pathetic."

Nottingham released her, stepping back to glance behind him at his prisoners. There were nearly a hundred of them, all of them broken by the betrayal of one of their own, haunted by the death of their leader. A few still held their heads high, and they were glaring at her from behind the guards. Still, most of them did not have the spirit to fight back and Nottingham knew it.

"No," Lacey continued. "He bestowed the bow upon someone he trusted. Someone he would protect."

"You're lying," Nottingham growled. His face was pinched, and his eyes darted behind her to where Robin lay.

"Am I?" Lacey shot back, lifting her chin. "Think about it. I, a mere 'whore,' was liberated from your dungeon by the ambassador to the Dark One himself. So, you have to ask yourself, why would he bother to do that for me?"

Nottingham's mask slipped. For a brief moment, Lacey saw fear. Smiling up at him, she reached for the bow, wrapping her own small hand around the carved wood just below where Nottingham himself held it. His shoulder twitched, but he did not jerk it away from her.

"Perhaps," Lacey whispered up at him, a coy smile on her lips, "I'm more than some two cent whore. Perhaps," Lacey murmured, grabbing hold of the bow with her other hand, "You're scared that you angered the Dark One. You know the stories, you know the legends. Do you think he would forgive?"

She pitched forward, standing on her tiptoes as she smirked into his face. "Do you think I'll forgive?"

Nottingham's face went pale, and for a second, his grip slackened. Lacey, seizing the opportunity, wrenched the bow away from him. With a growl of outrage, Nottingham reached down to grab her, but Lacey jabbed the bow upwards. It connected with his jaw with a crack and Nottingham toppled backwards.

Whirling around, Lacey scrambled towards Robin. Behind her, she heard Nottingham yelling for the guards to go after her. She ignored it, pitching forward heedlessly into the trees at the foot of the hill. The sound of arrows whistled overhead, and one buried itself into the tree just in front of her. Lacey gasped, dropping down and trying to scramble through the brush on her hands and knees, the fucking bow catching on nearly every branch as she tried to get to Robin without being killed.

Her left hand collided with something sticky and hot, and she looked down to find she was kneeling in blood. "Oh, god," she moaned, closing her eyes against the sight of it coating her palm. Behind her, she heard people fighting, and she knew the Merry Men and jackalopes had bought her some time with their own lives.

She followed the blood trail, finding Robin's body where it lay just at the brush edge. His face was turned away, his leg bent awkwardly beneath him. She crawled forward, kneeling beside him. "You great big idiot," Lacey sniffed, fumbling for the quiver on his back. A branch had impaled his lower side, and the blood still oozed from it freely. "You just had to go and get yourself killed."

"Belle?"

Jerking her hands back, Lacey nearly screamed. She stared down at the body for a moment, breathing heavily. "Robin?" she finally asked, touching his shoulder again. "Are you alive?"

"William…."

"William betrayed us, yes, got it. Stay quiet and breathing, for like five more minutes, okay?"

He murmured something in response, as Lacey finally found a non-broken arrow in his quiver. She hurried to fit it to the giant bow. "How do you even shoot this thing?" she grumbled, fighting to hold it upright.

Behind her, she heard the crunching of leaves as someone trod through the trail, coming ever closer. "Shit, shit, shit," she moaned, getting to her feet and crouching over Robin. "Please work, please, please work."

The bow was slick in her bloody hands, and the arrow refused to stay in position unless she held it between her two fingers. She lifted the bow up, wedging the bottom tip into the dirt for stability and holding the top part steady with her shoulder. She didn't realize she had been crying, until she felt the tears drop off her chin onto her hand.

"Please work, please work," she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment in the closest thing she knew to a prayer. When the noise came closer, she pulled the string as taut as she could manage with her bloody fingers and exhausted muscles and waited.

The cracking of a branch to her left caused her to spin and with her eyes still clenched shut, she let the arrow fly.

With the arrow's release, a sharp pain cut across her cheek as the string snapped back against her face. With a gasp of pain, Lacey's eyes flew open.

Her hand fell away from the bow as her eyes met the stunned eyes of her would be assailant. The mystical bow fell from her grasp. The person toward whom she had fired her enchanted arrow at close range stared back at her with wide dark brown eyes.

It was not Nottingham.

It was Ella.


	33. Chapter 33

"Ella!"

Tears blinding her, Lacey flung herself forward before Ella could fall to the ground. As Lacey wrapped her arms around her, she expected to feel the shaft of the arrow, or the sensation of fresh blood, but despite being pressed flush against Ella, neither of those things happened.

Instead, Ella wrapped her arms around her to help hold her up. "Good thing it's a magical bow, huh?"

"You're- you're okay?" Lacey peeled away from Ella, looking down. There was no arrow or wound visible. Lacey quickly patted her friend down, searching for the mortal wound. To her relief, she found none. "It was aimed right at you!" Lacey said, shaking her head. "How are you alive?"

"Belle," Ella steadied her. "Did you mean to shoot me?"

"No! I thought you were Nottingham and I just..."

Ella nodded and Lacey's eyes grew wide. "Oh my god, it worked," she said. "It's an actual magical fucking bow!"

Ella burst out laughing, her eyes filling with tears as she bent down to embrace Lacey. Unable to process this, Lacey dodged her embrace to scowl at the other woman. "You scared the hell out of me! I could have killed you!"

Ella's face grew somber and she turned back the way she had come. "Do you think…?"

The sound of someone calling their names interrupted her. The voice was familiar but Lacey couldn't place it. She raised the bow again, regretting her lack of arrows. Ella put her hand up, straining to listen as their names faded away. "That sounds like Little John," Ella said. "We're over here!" Ella yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Through the thicket!"

She turned back to Lacey with a sad smile. "We need to get Thomas back to the castle," she said. She paused, looking down at the blood stains Lacey's hands had left on her clothes. "Oh goodness, Belle, you're bleeding!"

"Shit! Robin!" Lacey exclaimed, furious at herself for not saying something sooner.

"Belle," Ella murmured worriedly. "It's not anyone's fault. Robin wouldn't have wanted us to blame ourselves."

"That's not- he's alive." Ignoring Ella's exclamation of surprise, Lacey turned and headed back where she had left Robin. She could only pray he had been able to hang on. "He needs help."

Ella followed her into the small clearing. At the sound of their approach, Robin lifted his head slightly. Pushing past Lacey, Ella knelt by Robin's side. Lacey stood behind her, trying to wipe her bloody hands off on Marian's ruined breeches.

"Shush," Ella whispered as Robin mumbled something incoherent. "It's okay. Everyone's okay."

Little John called out for them again, and this time, his voice sounded panicked. Ella made a move to stand, but Robin moaned, stilling her. Lacey brushed a reassuring hand against Ella's shoulder. "I'll go get him," she said. "You take care of him."

Lacey made her way back towards the clearing, which was a very different scene.

Ten yards ahead of her, right where she had left him standing and gloating, lay Nottingham. Robin's arrow stuck out of his chest, the feathers blowing softly in the morning breeze. He had an expression of confusion on his face, frozen forever in death. She stilled for a moment, staring at the man she had killed.

He had tried to rape her. He had imprisoned her. He would have killed her and still, there was a heavy weight in her stomach which she could not fully explain. A noise to her left startled her, causing her to look up to find Thomas sitting on the steps of the monastery, being tended to by Friar Tuck. The so-called guards seemed to have fled. No sign of a battle was visible, save the lone dead man.

Little John appeared at her side as silently as a ghost. He put a heavy hand on her shoulder. She cleared her throat, blinking up at the sunlight streaming through the clearing. "The guards?"

"Ran off," he said gruffly, nodding towards the trailhead a hundred feet away. "The arrow?"

She avoided the question. "This way, quickly," Lacey said. "Robin's still alive."

Now that Lacey wasn't running from arrows and certain death, they made their way easily back to Robin. Ella glanced up at them, her face pale but determined. "He's lost a lot of blood," she said. "He needs a healer."

"Robin," Little John sighed, sinking down to where Ella sat. "You had us worried."

Robin grinned weakly up at him, but Ella cut him off before he could reply. "Do you think you can carry him?"

"Aye," Little John replied, bending to carefully pick his friend up in his arms. Robin's face went white and then green, before his eyes closed and he lost consciousness.

"Probably for the best," Ella sighed. "We have to hurry."

"I'll get Thomas," Lacey decided, moving towards the glen. "We're going to need him if we want to get to the castle without getting arrested."

As it turned out, Marian had been far from idle in their absence.

When they reached the border of the forest, the sound of galloping horses could be heard approaching from the main road. Little John paused, clutching Robin to his chest. Even Ella looked uncertain, but Thomas pushed away from her supportive embrace and moved to meet the party.

Little John made an instinctive move to block him and Thomas lay a reassuring hand on the giant's arm. "It's okay," Thomas said, smiling weakly. "I know those horses."

From where she stood at the back of the group, fighting to stay awake and still clutching the bow that had taken Nottingham's life, Lacey stifled a yawn. Overhead, the forest was coming to life as the sun climbed higher in the sky above them. The trees cast shadows over the five of them, dappling them in black and brown stripes. Behind them, drops of blood marked their slow path through the woods, the blood of a prince and an outlaw mingling together in the earth of the First Kingdom.

Thomas made his way gamely to the edge of the forest, waving his arms and whistling to capture the attention of the quickly moving patrol. A horse near the back pulled short, and the lead horse swung around mere seconds later.

"They've seen us," Ella sighed, moving under Thomas's left arm. He collapsed against her, letting his head loll intimately upon her own as his left hand clutched her hip.

"That was the idea," Lacey commented drily. She scratched idly at the exposed skin of her collarbone, noticing her nails were caked with dirt and dried blood. Little John stood before her, not moving out into the sunlight. "It's okay, big guy," she promised him. "We have a prince on our side now."

While the giant didn't look convinced, he stayed put. Robin was still unconscious, which was for the better judging by the extent of his injuries. His breathing was growing shaky though, and Lacey trusted Ella's judgement on returning a wanted fugitive to the castle.

The patrol was nearly upon them now, and a familiar face was at the front. Swinging down from her still trotting horse, Marian threw herself at Thomas, nearly knocking both him and Ella over.

"Thomas!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed to his chest. "I've been looking for you!"

"Well, you found him," Lacey grumbled, from her relatively unseen position behind Ella and Little John. "Now, let's get back to the castle where I can have a proper bath."

No one heard her. Marian was already hurrying Thomas towards the now empty horse with Ella's aid. "Your father is worried sick," she continued. "We sent all the royal guard out searching for you. What happened?"

"Great idea," Lacey replied. Ella shot her a warning look as a guard helped get Thomas situated upon his own steed. Lacey ignored it. She was exhausted, filthy, her legs were cramping and she had killed a man. Her patience was spent.

"Later, Marian. I'll explain later. As for now, that man needs assistance far more than I," Thomas said, gesturing towards Robin. "Get him to the castle as fast as you can."

Marian, her eyes finally seeing past Thomas, made an inhuman squeak. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she had to visibly restrain herself from running and throwing herself at Robin.

"Sir," the guard said, eyes large as he took in Little John. "These are wanted men."

"They have the full pardon of my name," Thomas decreed. "We will take him straight to my father's healers at once. His life is in our hands."

As if the spell was broken, Marian rushed forward to where Little John stood in the shadows. She noticed Lacey, and a small smile appeared on the woman's face for the briefest of moments before her whole attention switched to Robin.

"Oh, Robin," Marian murmured, brushing his hair from his forehead. "What trouble did you get into this time, my love?"

"T'was William," Little John sniffed. The giant was crying, bottom lip trembling as Marian gently caressed Robin's face. "He pushed him from the overlook by the monastery."

"William?" Marian gasped. "He would never!"

"Nottingham made him. He had someone important to William," Lacey chimed in, coming to stand beside Little John. "Ana?"

Marian and Little John shook their head, the name not familiar to them. "He's hurt, bad," Little John murmured, shifting Robin slightly. "His heartbeat grows weaker and weaker."

"We need to hurry then," Marian decided.

Up ahead, a guard led Ella to a horse, but the rest didn't dare step foot into the forest itself. They kept glancing towards them nervously.

"Laing can carry Robin and I," Marian said thoughtfully, glancing back at her mount who was pawing the ground in interest. The unspoken question of what steed would be large enough to carry Little John was left unspoken.

"I need to return to the camp," Little John said apologetically. "I will come as soon as I can."

Marian nodded, and the two made their way to Laing, a beautiful mare with dappled spots across her hind quarters. The horse snickered in greeting at Little John, nuzzling his nose to the giant's shoulder. It was evident to the entire party that this was not the first time the two had met. Lacey shot a glare at two guards who were whispering, and they fell silent but their eyes didn't miss the tender care Marian bestowed upon the unconscious famed outlaw.

Ella had somehow argued her way to sitting behind Thomas. He looked abashed but relieved as she held him up. He held the reins in his loose grip but her knees were the ones clenched around their horse.

Marian herself mounted with no issue, and Little John gently deposited Robin before her. The outlaw's broken leg laid at an odd angle to Marian's. It would be an excruciatingly painful journey, and Robin was losing color quickly.

"What about me?" she asked Marian. "Where's my horse?"

Marian looked guilty. "Well…" she started, eyes glancing to the rear of the group. Lacey followed her gaze and found another familiar face smirking at her from atop his horse.

"He insisted," Marian whispered. "Claimed he knew exactly where you were going to be and here you are."

"Marian," Lacey hissed. "I do not want to ride with him!"

"Belle," Marian growled. "I do not have time for this. Robin is dying, Thomas is seriously wounded and I have a kingdom poised on rebellion. Get on that horse or so help me-"

Less than five minutes later, Lacey was seated in front of Ambassador Gold, frowning down at the pitch black mane of what appeared to be the largest horse of the party.

"Compensating for much?" she grumbled. The horse snorted, tossing his head up at her. Lacey's hands instinctively gripped at the closest thing, which happened to be the ambassador's hands holding the reins at her side.

"Easy now," Gold murmured, but whether it was to her or the horse, Lacey wasn't sure. She snatched her hands away, and kept her gaze fixed straight ahead.

They were going at a snail's pace across the fields to the castle. A more direct route, to save on time, but it was too dangerous to go quickly. Lacey was fairly certain both Thomas and Robin had internal bleeding as well as their various wounds. Ella and Marian seemed to both think so as well. A few guards had ridden ahead to alert the healers and castle staff to their arrival, but the main party moved slowly over the landscape.

Her stomach chose that particular moment to gurgle, reminding her that she hadn't eaten in over twenty four hours. Behind her, she heard a snort of laughter. "Not used to skipping a meal, Princess?" Gold asked. His tone sounded pleasant but Lacey heard the dig in the comment all the same.

"I've been off rescuing the heir of the kingdom," she snarled, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "Shockingly there was no buffet option in the wilderness."

There was a masculine noise of disbelief, one that made his chest rumble against her back. She leaned forward on pretext of wiping her bloodstained hands on her breeches, but when she straightened, he was still very much there.

She wasn't sure why she was so annoyed at the mysterious ambassador. He had done nothing really, it was just the knowledge that the Imp had tricked her into trusting someone of his that irked her. Besides, if Gold represented the Imp, he was no more to be trusted than the giggling magic moron anyways.

Ahead of them, she saw the dark hair of Ella shining in the sunlight, while Marian's blonde locks glinted golden. She reached up to touch her own hair and found it gritty and ratty. "Now, now, Princess" Gold murmured, not missing the small gesture. "Looks aren't everything."

She turned, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. "Watch it, pal," she snarled. "I don't know if the Imp has deigned to share this with you, but I'm not just one of his little pawns."

Gold lifted an eyebrow, but it was the smirk playing around his lips that made Lacey want to smack him. "My apologies, your Royal Highness," he said with a nod. "I had no idea I was dealing with someone of such importance."

"You're laughing now, but I just killed a man so show some respect," Lacey growled, and the effect was only slightly ruined by the fact their horse stepped gingerly over a dip in the ground, causing Lacey to pitch to the left. Gold, having the advantage of seeing where they had been going, had his arm there, and he slid her back into position between his thighs with ease.

Resisting the urge to glare at him some more, Lacey turned back around. She could see the castle in the distance, but it was still some distance away. "How much longer?" she asked, growing suddenly unsure of the journey. Robin's survival from a fall of such height had been miraculous, but in a land without hospitals and antibiotics, she was unsure how long he could hold on in such a state.

"We're close," he said after a moment. "I'm not sure it'll be soon enough though."

"Couldn't we just… summon the Imp or something?" Lacey asked after a moment. "If he's as all powerful as they all seem to think he is, surely he could do something?"

"You know better than that," Gold replied. "Ask yourself what a life would cost. What magic would be needed to save what is lost."

Lacey shook her head. "Robin's not dead."

"He's mostly dead," Gold said. "Still, if the lady would like to try, far be it for me to stop her."

"Don't try to be charming," Lacey shot back.

"What exactly have I done to earn your ire?" Gold asked, pulling the reins a bit to slow their pace. A guard glanced back at them, but she felt Gold wave him on. With one last lingering look, the guard rode on to protect his prince as their horse began a meandering trot.

Lacey disliked this development. She wanted to be back in the room Marian had given her, wanted this whole thing to be behind her, and she wanted to be off this horse. "You lied to me."

She felt him rumble in laughter again, and she leaned forward to escape the sensation. "How do you figure that?" he asked her.

"You work for him," she reminded him. "The Dark One, or whatever you call him."

"He has many names," Gold replied after a moment. "Still, I fail to see how my association condemns me. I liberated you from your jail cell and discovered you all this morning before someone else did. Without the assistance of the Ninth Kingdom, you all would be dead many times over."

Lacey scoffed. "Says you," she mumbled, twitching her shoulders. "The Imp's the whole reason I'm in this mess in the first place." Her companion didn't take this bait, and Lacey soon found the silence uncomfortable. "So, how exactly did you find yourself in his employ?"

"I volunteered," he said, his voice rough and low. His tone invited no further conversation on the subject, and he tightened his knees around the horse, spurring it faster. Lacey pitched forward, and only Gold's arm wrapping around her stomach and hauling her back upright prevented her from breaking her nose on the horse's neck.

Her protests were ignored as their steed carried them forward. They passed by Marian and Robin, and despite her attempt to crane her neck around Gold's frame, she only saw the smallest glimpse of Robin's pale face before they arrived beside Thomas and Ella.

"Your Royal Highness," Gold greeted. Thomas looked up, smiling wanly as he tried to get his eyes to focus. Ella's face was pinched as she continued to stare straight ahead towards the castle. "How do you feel?"

"Happy," Thomas replied sincerely despite his occasional wince. "Blissfully happy. I'm betrothed!"

"Hush," Ella murmured, blushing slightly. "I can't marry you if you die before we get back to the castle."

"Die?" Lacey blurted, looking back at Thomas. "Ella, he's just dinged up. I've seen worse in bar fights."

"Bar?" Thomas remarked in confusion. "What's a bar?"

"Tavern," Lacey corrected. "We call them bars in the Fourth Kingdom."

Gold made an incredulous noise and she dug an elbow in his ribs. The others missed this, but Gold tightened his own thighs around hers in clear warning.

"She's just worried," Thomas said, resting his hand on Ella's thigh. Ella twitched slightly, and the horse neighed in protest. Lacey laughed, even as Ella brushed his hand off her.

"Honestly," she murmured, cheeks pink. "You'd think we already married the way you're carrying on!"

"As soon as the official is before us," Thomas said in all seriousness. By the look on both their faces, this had been something determined upon their reunion.

"How's Robin?" Ella asked, changing the subject neatly.

"He's still breathing," Gold replied with a shrug. "For how much longer, I'm not sure."

Ella frowned. "We're at least another hour away from the castle. Maybe more if we have to slow down again."

"He'll be dead within two," Gold said with some confidence. "His lung is collapsed."

"How do you know that?" Lacey demanded, shifting slightly.

"His breathing," Gold explained. "His color has gradually gotten worse despite his wounds being wrapped."

"Maybe you should ride ahead?" Ella suggested. "Have the healers come to us?"

"No," Lacey chimed in. "They'll need a sterile environment."

"A what?"

The entire party was staring at her now, and Lacey gulped. "Clean room and tools. You know. To avoid bacteria."

"Do you mean fever?" Ella asked, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Yes!" Lacey said in relief. "Fever."

"We'll ride ahead," Gold agreed before she could make a further ass of herself. "If only to let them know the prince wants an official."

Thomas grinned at him, as Gold squeezed his knees. This time, Lacey was prepared for it and leaned into the forward motion. They surged into a gallop, wind whistling by them so quickly that words would be lost. Lacey settled into the rise and fall quickly, feeling somewhat more secure with the feeling of someone behind her on the great animal.

The empty plains rolled beneath them, as Gold angled the horse towards the west, away from the forest. The cool autumn air chilled her, and she leaned back, electing to be warm instead of continuing to show her disapproval of the ambassador. She'd continue when they were inside, when she was bathed and had been fed.

It was in this warm cocoon, her head nestled against the ambassador's shoulder that Lacey fell asleep. It wasn't until she felt hands wrap around her waist, sliding her down off the giant creature that she blinked awake to find a guard wrapping her in a blanket and hustling her up the stairs.

She caught the briefest glimpse of Gold, talking with a tall man Lacey had never seen. She let her eyes close again, nestling deeper into the warm embrace of the guard as her jaw cracked open in a very unladylike yawn.

The guard took to the stairs, taking them carefully, but quickly as he bore her to the relative safety of what Lacey could only hope was a four-poster bed and a waiting bath. When he reached the landing, she opened her eyes, blinking down at the gallery below as they made their way to the far wing.

Below, Gold stared up at her from where he stood in the thong of servants. Men in white stood before him, talking, oblivious that they had already lost his attention. Behind him in the doorway, sunlight streamed in, illuminating his hair with golds and reds. His upturned face bore the look of concern, but it was the way his eyes followed her that made Lacey raise one hand from the cloak she found herself wrapped in and wiggle her fingers at him.

It was a small gesture, she told herself as he nodded back at her. It meant nothing more than to let him know she was fine, although for the life of her, she wasn't sure why he would care.

It was just evident to her, as she closed her eyes and let herself fall back asleep, that in some small way he did.


	34. Chapter 34

A number of things happened over the next few weeks.

The royal wedding of Prince Thomas and Lady Ella was announced. Despite Thomas's wishes to be married the second they arrived back at the castle, the healers refused to allow him so much as a kiss goodbye before they whisked him away.

Lacey, sleeping through all of this, later learned that Ella ignored the healers' orders and marched into his room to help care for him. She had not left his side until a week later when he was proclaimed healthy enough to leave his bed.

During this, Lady Tremaine had visited the castle upon hearing of Nottingham's death. She had loudly demanded her errant stepdaughter back home to don black widow weeds. The King himself ordered her escorted out. She was not heard from again.

Robin was cleared of all charges. The people of the Third Realm were granted citizenship and the First Realm's lands in the Infinite Forest were bestowed to them as a sign of peace.

It was meant as a gesture of solidarity, one meant to stop war when their chief died. When, because there was no question of if. The great outlaw Robin Hood lay in a state of near death for three weeks. The healers, sworn to save all life, did their best, but at the end of it, there was not much they could do but wait. Little John, Friar Tuck and even Oochigeas visited when they could, but they disliked the great stone castle. No one spoke a word of William Scarlett, and despite how it rankled her, Lacey respected their wishes and stayed silent.

Marian refused to give up hope. Working as hard as ever while Thomas also recovered, she refused to let the burden of the kingdom fall to anyone else. Everyone let her work herself to exhaustion, recognizing her need to keep busy. In between, she would visit Robin, telling him about the day and helping the healer bathe and feed him.

Once everything had settled down a bit, Marian even confessed to her crimes. The King, annoyed at her interruption of his chess game, sent her back to work without another word on the matter. Lacey laughed herself silly watching Marian stumble out of the royal throne room, dazed and confused.

"But I committed treason," Marian said in bewilderment. "A capital crime!"

"You're as close to a daughter as he has," Lacey reminded her, falling in line beside her as they headed down to the kitchens. It was nearly lunchtime and Lacey hated eating with the other nobles. She preferred the small table in the kitchen where, when possible, Ella would join her and Marian for a quick bite between royal lessons.

As soon-to-be Queen, Ella had a lot to learn. She knew how to darn socks, and fix hems and polish silver and clean the cracks, but she did not know how to curtsey to a visiting dignitary or how to address a dowager. Luckily, she was a fast learner, and she did not complain although she had barely a moment to herself between wedding planning and these lessons.

Lacey managed to avoid any unwanted attention by the simple confession of her association with the Ninth Kingdom. "No, I daresay I'm not a true princess," she would say with a cutting smile to the newest visiting noble. "I live in the Dark Castle, and the Dark One himself sent me to represent his kingdom at the royal wedding."

"Belle," Ella would sigh, barely suppressing a smile as the latest arrived noble hurried off, wide-eyed to tell the story to their entourage. "You're enjoying this."

"Of course I am," she would reply. "It's not every day you get to be the good guy and the bad guy."

Lacey was free to do this little routine because the Ninth Kingdom's ambassador had left shortly after the prince's safe return. Gold had not said a word to anyone, but his room had been empty by the next morning. A simple letter thanked the King for his continued gracious hospitality of Belle, who would be staying on until the wedding.

It was a kindness she had not expected. Gold had given her nearly a month to spend with the people she had come to care about despite her best intentions to the contrary. Despite her best attempts, she found herself thinking fondly of the mysterious ambassador despite his association with the Imp.

The only other development worth noting was not nearly as enjoyable.

"I've gained ten pounds!" Lacey groaned, collapsing on the bed in her stays. Her maid of the day made another valiant effort to rouse her, glancing nervously at the clock over the bed. The maids, all terrified of Lacey, rotated duties every day for their sanity and to her and Marian's continued amusement.

"Miss," her latest maid cajoled fitfully. "The lunch is in an hour!"

"I'll take it from here, Posey," Marian said, striding into the room. She was balancing an empty tea tray, and Posey gratefully took it from her and disappeared out the door. "What did you do to poor Posey?" Marian laughed, closing the door behind her. "She looks as if she's swallowed a lemon."

"I gained ten pounds," Lacey complained, throwing an arm over her eyes. "Ten!"

"I don't see the issue," Marian replied, sitting down at the small desk by the window. She sighed happily, slipping her shoes off to rub her arches. "You look lovely."

"Ten pounds," Lacey hissed, leaning up on her elbows. "What about this aren't you getting? I'm huge!"

"What in the world are you screeching about now?" Ella asked, appearing in the doorway. She closed the door quickly behind her, leaning against it in exhaustion. Lacey shot her a dirty look before collapsing back onto the bed. The feather mattress bounced about her and she sank deeper into its embrace, a chorus of 'fat, fat, fatty fat fat' echoing in her head.

"Dancing lessons?" Marian guessed, grinning over at her.

"With that horrible bear of a man," Ella shivered. "'Faster! Slower! Float like a swan, not waddle like a duck!' Horrid." Marian patted the seat beside her and Ella gratefully collapsed. "So, what is our lady of secrets complaining of today?"

"She's gained ten pounds!" Marian said proudly, smiling over at Lacey.

Lacey scowled back, reaching down to pinch at the roll that was now sitting stubbornly on her hips. Ella broke out into laughter, patting her own stomach in response. "I'm up eighteen," she bragged shamelessly. Lacey opened and then closed her mouth, trying to figure out what alternate dimension she had wound up in now.

"That's not exactly a good thing, Ella," she pointed out carefully. She had noticed her friend had filled out in the face, her angular features softened by regular meals. Her curves slightly more pronounced, but she had not realized Ella's corsets had been hiding nearly twenty pounds. She looked away hastily.

"Of course it is!" Marian replied in surprise. "No one likes a skinny woman, Belle."

She narrowed her eyes at them, trying to figure out if they were joking. Marian, full figured and lovely, had a look of superiority on her rosy face and Ella looked down at her own bosom proudly. "You're having me on," she decided, crossing her arms. "This is a joke."

"Belle!" Ella chastised as Marian shook her head.

"Honestly," the castellan murmured, "only you, Belle, would think a well-fed woman's figure would mean something negative. A woman is meant to be round and warm and lovely, not sticks and bones in the cold. Some women are born narrow and thin, tis true, but even the fullest women pad their figures."

Images of Marilyn Monroe appeared in Lacey's head and she nodded hesitantly. "Okay," she sighed, standing. "But I'm not a huge fan of it myself."

Ella stood, coming to help her without a request. Marian, happy to sit for a moment, let her. Lacey's arms came up as Ella began to tug at the strays, plucking them expertly as she redistributed the weight. "That poor maid," Ella clucked. "She must have been terribly confused as to why you were trying to make yourself into a scarecrow."

"She was," Lacey admitted with a smile. "She kept asking me if I was feeling alright."

Marian laughed, a rare noise these days. It ended too quickly though, as if Marian grew suddenly silent, darting a guilty look at the door as if Robin may have heard her enjoying herself.

"A woman with curves," Ella said firmly, keeping Marian's mind off the man in the room down the hall, "is desirable. Her womanly figure shows health and prosperity," she continued, her fingers tracing the soft curves of Lacey's small pert breasts. Marian nodded along from her seat. "Her blushing complexion shows youth and vitality," she remarked, pinching Lacey's cheeks as she came around the front to tie the final bow.

"Thanks," Lacey shrugged. "But I'm still not having any dessert."

"Suit yourself," Marian replied, standing and stretching. "Ella, you better head back to your room before Posey worries herself to death. She's dressing you today."

"I thought she was supposed to help me?" Lacey asked, gesturing towards her hoops across the room.

"You would have been done by now if you hadn't been so worried about your figure," Marian reminded her. "I'll help you get dressed. I have time this afternoon while everyone is at the banquet."

"Oh, but Marian," Ella protested feebly, "the wedding's tomorrow. Thomas will be heartbroken if you aren't there for the toasts today."

"Ella," Lacey murmured, shaking her head behind Marian's hunched shoulders.

Ella, realizing her mistake too late, colored. The love of her life had recovered. Thomas was healthy and whole, while Robin still lingered in a state where no one could reach him. Comas were hard to explain to people, Lacey had quickly discovered. When the healers had realized she had no magic of her own, they had quickly dismissed her and her notions of "comas". It had taken everything she had to not throw the bedpan at them.

"Better go on," Marian reminded her. With a nod, Ella slipped out of the room. "Ready?" she asked Lacey, brusquely turning with hoops in hand.

"As I'll ever be," Lacey replied, stepping into the dreaded hoops and allowing Marian to draw the skirt up to her waist. "What old dress do I get to borrow today?"

"A new one, actually," Marian said with a smile, tugging the hoops in place and tying the bows behind Lacey's back. "Ella's dresses came in, and I had ordered two for you for the festivities."

"Marian!" Lacey turned, her hoops swinging into Marian. "That wasn't necessary! I'll be gone in two days."

"I know," Marian said, her throat working oddly. "That's why I did it."

Ignoring the fact that she had less than a hour to get presentable before the royal banquet, Lacey leaned over and enveloped her friend in a hug, pressing her cheek to Marian's shoulder. Marian's hands gripped her arms, and then she began to tremble, quiet little sobs escaping. Lacey didn't speak. She just let her cry for what Lacey suspected might be the first time since Robin had been injured.

"Oh," Marian said after a moment, straightening and wiping the tears from her face. "There's one more thing."

"What?" Lacey asked as Marian bustled away to the wardrobe. When her friend did not immediately answer, Lacey narrowed her eyes at her back. "Marian, what aren't you telling me?"

"Gold's back," Marian said without turning around. "And due to the numbers, he's escorting you into the hall."

If Ella had thought she had screeched earlier, it was nothing compared to the noise Lacey made then.

"Not a word," Lacey warned, taking the silently offered arm without bothering to look at him. The dress Marian had gifted her was a monstrosity of frills and ribbons, lace and rosettes. With skirts fluffed out far enough to be stylish, she looked like a barbie doll cake. It was not exactly the impression she had been hoping to make upon Gold's return.

Gold wisely took her advice, tucking her arm under his. The bare skin of her arm prickled at the contact. Lacey pointedly kept her eyes forward, ignoring the growing murmurs of the rest of the guests. Gold did likewise, although his bearing seemed a bit easier. Whenever someone caught his eye, they made an odd squeaking noise and looked hastily away.

Directly ahead of them, Ella turned to look over her shoulder, her raised eyebrow a clear message.

Lacey widened her eyes, before giving Ella a glimpse of a smile. Thomas turned his head slightly, a whisper was exchanged and Ella quickly straightened as they made their way into the dining room. Ella took her place across from Thomas, and the King sat at the front of the table.

His Majesty caught her eye, nodding warmly before his eyes went cold, flashing over Gold as he deposited her at her seat. Without a word, the ambassador glided across the way, waiting as the rest of the guests filled in before sitting.

Usually Lacey found the seating of a couple across from each other ridiculous, but today, with no way to communicate with Gold except expressions and subtle kicks under the table, she was relieved. The last time she had seen him, she had been too tired to think straight. Her ire had died down that was true, but she was still oddly uneasy around him. She was not exactly used to this unsettled feeling when it came to the opposite sex, and it unnerved her.

Ella leaned over, the King busy talking with his son. "You didn't tell me Gold was coming for the wedding!" she complained, eyes locked as Gold made a study of his soup. The girl next to him didn't even touch her spoon, too busy trembling in horror at her bad luck.

"I didn't know," she whispered back. "I guess he's here to make sure I go quietly."

"You can stay," Ella said seriously, dark eyes glancing to Gold. "We want you to stay."

"That wasn't part of the deal," Lacey reminded her softly. "Not that I don't want to stay, but who knows what will happen if I try. He could send more ambassadors."

"Belle," Ella murmured, but a faint smile had appeared. "Talk to him. Maybe he'll speak to the Dark One for you."

Before Lacey could reply, the King had turned his attention to them. "My dear," he said warmly, catching Lacey's eye. "How have you been?"

"Very well, your Majesty," Lacey answered, flicking her napkin out and settling it into her lap. The King beamed at her, ignoring the fluttering waiter trying to refill the wine glass at his elbow. Despite her association with the Ninth Kingdom, he was very fond of Lacey as he often reminded her to Thomas's continued embarrassment. "Are you looking forward to tomorrow?"

The King turned his attention on his future daughter-in-law for a brief moment, and his face, as always, showed his thoughts. Thomas had inherited his father's easy going manner, and his tendency to wear his thoughts on his sleeve, if not his father's flirtatiousness. Lacey didn't mind it, the King was kind and warm and he reminded her of the father she had lost.

Ella felt rather the same way. She had taken to the monarch quickly, and despite her odd history, the King had never said a word against her. He ignored talk of her calloused fingers, reprimanded anyone who dared utter the name Cinderella, and doted on her whenever Thomas was busy.

"Ella is already part of the family," he answered kindly. "Tomorrow is simply a formality."

"Here, here," Thomas replied, and the look of utter adoration that passed between the two of them made Lacey turn away. Across from her, Gold arched his damnable brow at her, eyes widening in comment on the sickening display. Lacey kicked at his shin playfully, only mildly disappointed when he easily avoided her. By this time, the waiter had arrived at her elbow and was pouring her second glass of wine.

Grasping it, she tipped it to her lips and prayed that lunch would be over quickly.

The problem with these kinds of things were they lasted forever.

Sinking back further into her chair, Lacey attempted an air of interest as what seemed to be the twentieth person stood to make a toast to the happy couple. It was becoming obvious to her why this function was a lunch instead of a dinner. All the Kingdoms and realms had sent someone, although Lacey had been disappointed to find Eric and Ariel, still newlyweds themselves, had sent some odd little bird, white hairs fluffing out of his head like feathers. He hadn't recognized her either, and she had topped off two glasses during his speech.

Bored, she glanced away, letting her gaze settle on Gold. He ignored her, keeping his attention diverted. Fine by her, it allowed her a moment to take him in without that damn brow arching up to his hairline. His rather full hairline, Lacey noted, for a man of his age.

She had debated his age, never quite remembering if he had been silver or grey. Silver, she decided, watching the candle light glint off the highlights in his otherwise light brown hair. It went well, his shoulder length mane streaked with silver and his expressive amber brown eyes. In all, she rather liked his pointed face with its angles and ridges. It was interesting, and slightly familiar, as if she had known him before she met him. A face with character, her father would have said.

It was that memory, a father's warm smile, and a large hand holding hers tightly that broke her concentration. Wrenching her mind back to the present, she shook her head to clear it of the memories. The man beside her glanced over at the sharp movement. Lacey raised the glass to him in a small toast, winking conspiratorially. Her neighbor went beet red in a heartbeat, diving for his glass as the speaker raised his own glass for a toast.

A soft press against her ankle caused her to look sharply across the table. Gold was dutifully watching the man speaking, but by now she knew that press of leather against her skirts. She artfully dislodged his shoe from her person. He never once glanced over at her.

"Fine, be that way," Lacey grumbled, topping off the remains of her eighth or ninth glass of wine. Ella thankfully didn't hear. She didn't need two people kicking her shins under the table.

"Thank you, Sir Melton," the King said warmly, moving to stand. "My thanks to all of you for coming so far for this momentous occasion. If that is all, we shall adjourn to the salons for the remainder of the afternoon."

Gold stood. Relieved, Lacey followed suit. She pushed her chair backwards, already clamboring to her feet when she realized no one else was doing the same. Across from her, Gold had plucked his goblet from the table and was raising it in what was unmistakably another godforsaken toast. His eyes glittered at her in amusement and she begrudgingly settled back down.

Her neighbor smiled at her in commiseration, but it was Ella's soft touch on her knee that kept her from saying something she'd regret. The King and Thomas, both drained of color, stared at Gold as he waited for the room's complete attention.

If Lacey hadn't been in desperate need of the chamber pot at the moment, she would have been impressed. As it was, she was mainly just uncomfortable.

"As many of you know," Gold started, "I am here representing the illustrious Ninth Kingdom." His eyes flashed over the crowd, all cowering as they stared up at him in nervous apprehension. "I would like to raise a glass to the future King and Queen of the First Kingdom's Original Realm, and wish them both a long and illustrious life as leaders of their people. May they reign in peace and prosperity."

He raised his glass. Beside him, Thomas was smiling tightly, the pointed reminder of the continued… alliance between the kingdoms obvious. Gold tipped his glass, and the rest of the table scrambled for their glasses. The following toast was lackluster, and it left an uneasy pall over the celebration. Ella was smiling tightly, as everyone else looked around uncertainly. No one stood, not daring to presume to toast after the Ninth Kingdom had its say.

Lacey didn't recall getting to her feet, but when she found herself looking down at Ella's upturned face, she gulped.

"Love is something unpredictable and strange," Lacey stared, having no earthly idea what she was saying. The wine was warming her, tingling along her nerve system like champagne lightning. "When I met Ella, I didn't know that. I thought it was a fluke, something that only happens in stories."

Gold had seated himself, but she could feel his eyes burrowing into her.

"I was there when Thomas first saw Ella," Lacey continued heedlessly. "In a crowded ballroom, with a million other people there, he saw her." Lacey paused, glancing over at the two of them. They smiled back at her and it gave her the confidence to continue. "Which considering they're the two tallest people in the realm wasn't too terribly difficult."

No one dared laugh, but she saw a few smiles ducking behind napkins. Marian would have laughed, but the castellan was not here and she was on her own. "When Thomas saw Ella, there was no mistaking it as a fluke. When he took her hand to dance, everyone knew it was over."

The girl next to Gold nodded gloomily at this, prompting Lacey's smile to widen. "They did not have an easy love story. There was magic, sure, but it did not come freely. They had to work to get here, and they'll have to work to continue moving forward. That's what love is," Lacey continued. "It's putting in the work because it's worth it." She glanced down, reaching for Ella's hand. Ella hurriedly produced it from her lap, squeezing Lacey's fingers.

"I didn't know about hard work before Ella," she murmured, shrugging as she tried to keep her emotions in check. Her glass was light in her hand and she gestured with it a bit widly, to make her point. "Now, I know a little hard work is necessary from time to time. Nothing just is. It takes work and dedication, faith and determination. Ella has that in spades and Thomas," Lacey turned to find him smiling a little confused but good naturedly over at her. "She'll bring it out in you if you let her."

"To the happy bride and groom," Lacey toasted before maudlin emotions could overtake her. "May their love never fade, their loyalty to each other never waver, and that their union will be prosperous as it is happy."

She had never been in a wedding. Her college roommates had tolerated her. Her so-called friends from high school had all gotten married young and her bar buddies had their own fucked up lives to deal with. Still, it occurred to Lacey as everyone raised their glasses, relieved smiles directed back at her, she had just given a fairly decent maid of honor toast. Gold stared up at her, his lips twisted into a thoughtful expression, and his eyes bent on her and her alone. It was a heady feeling, and for a moment, Lacey forgot exactly what she was doing.

The sound of running footsteps heralded someone's rapid approach, bringing her back to the present. Everyone stood, turning to the main doors, just as Marian rushed in, breathing heavily with a rapturous grin on her face.

"He's awake!" she crowed, tears pouring down her face. "Robin's awake!"

By midnight, the castle had fallen asleep. The future Queen in her rooms, the future King in his suite, and Robin awake. She had spent most of the early evening with him and Marian. When she had left the two of them alone, she found Gold had disappeared, leaving Lacey to her own thoughts.

At the moment, Lacey stood in the winter garden, the small sunken gardens by the main doors. The moons shone down through the glass ceiling, bathing everything in silverlight. It was April back home, Lacey thought, and here the chill of winter was beginning to settle in.

A prickling of magic dusted over her shoulder, causing her to shiver slightly. She did not turn to greet him. So, he lingered behind her in the deep shadows of the hall. "How fares the outlaw?" he asked.

"He'll live," Lacey replied. "Healers say they've never seen anything like it."

"A miracle," the Imp giggled. He made little noise as usual, and Lacey had to resist the urge to flinch when he appeared beside her in the sunken garden.

"Perhaps," Lacey shrugged. "You're early."

"A matter has arisen in the Second Kingdom," the Imp said. "You'll leave at first light."

Lacey twisted to face him. The moonlight dappled over his features, casting them into stark white light. His eyes flickered to hers, a dare lurking deep within. "I thought-"

"You'd get to stay for the wedding?"

Lacey fell silent. "Something like that," she finally murmured.

"Time waits for no beast!"

"Lovely," Lacey sighed, shaking her head. He sniggered, shoulders twitching as he laughed at his own little quip. "I haven't missed you at all."

"No?" he asked, drawing out the syllable.

"No," Lacey said, crossing her arms. "Does Gold know you're here?"

"The ambassador," the Imp said, flicking his fingers at her, "is of no importance to you."

"I wouldn't say that," Lacey said, lifting an eyebrow at him meaningfully. She was rewarded with a look of what could almost be called surprise. "Is he coming with me?"

The Imp stared at her, and then after a moment, he nodded. Lacey smiled. With a suggestive wink, she moved back towards the great hall. She had goodbyes to make, and this time at least, she could say them.

"Til we meet again," the Imp called after her.

"Not too soon, I hope!" Lacey replied. She didn't look back, but the familiar tingle of magic along her spine told her he was already gone.

Love to Ramloth as always for her beta skills AND Nia-Nita did fan art that is to die for beautiful.

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